“I’m right here,” David said. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Hey,” Zac said, holding a chair for Emma, who looked pretty in one of those wrap dresses that were suddenly back in style. “No prob. I told them you were late getting back.”
David looked over at Penny, who had her big blue eyes pinned to him. “I heard,” he said.
“Oh, puh-lease. All I said was you were late and didn’t have to drive anywhere. That’s it.”
She jammed the stopper on the wine decanter with enough force the thing should have splintered. But, as usual, no one said anything about the dramatics.
He’d be the bigger person and not take the Penny bait. Regardless of whose fault it was, their every argument started this way. One of them said something that, on the surface, seemed harmless but underneath held enough venom to kill an elephant. He wasn’t going there. He’d promised Mom—and himself—he’d find a way to mend things with his sister.
He walked over and shook hands with Penny’s boyfriend. “Russ, good to see you.”
“Hey, Dave.”
The FBI agent, still in his suit from work, his dark hair neatly groomed, stayed cool. He’d been that way the first time they’d met in person the week prior. Not surprising, considering that Penny had probably filled him in on their constant arguing. It didn’t matter. As he should be, Russ was Team Penny, and David respected that. Loyalty in a relationship, at least in David’s mind, could make or break things.
He turned to Penny and touched her arm. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
Hitting him with direct suspicion, she narrowed those piercing blue eyes, but he stayed quiet, refusing to start a war.
Finally, she nodded. “Me, neither. Mom is really excited about this dinner. Let’s not ruin it.”
“A truce,” Russ said. “Someone alert the media.”
Zac took his seat next to Emma. “Nice.”
Russ laughed. “You think I’m kidding?”
Penny flapped her hands. “Okay, Russell. Knock it off.”
Waiting to see where Penny and Russ would land, David stood behind his chair. Russ moved to the opposite side, next to Emma and facing Penny. That meant David would be in his normal spot by Mom with Penny on his opposite side.
“Hey, Dad,” he said.
“Son, how was your day?”
Ha. That was a loaded question. “Busy.”
The table was packed with food, his favorite roast, a ham—because apparently the roast wasn’t enough—a huge dish of twice-baked potatoes, salad and some kind of vegetable dish. Never a fan of vegetables, he’d try it, but chances were it wouldn’t work for him. The aroma of the meat mixed with spices from the vegetables, and his stomach rumbled. No lunch. He’d forgotten. What with the hotness of Amanda LeBlanc distracting him.
He took his seat and dropped his napkin into his lap.
“Hellooo, my darlings.” Mom swung into the room, her hair tucked behind her ears and a fresh face of makeup. “How are we all tonight?”
A variety of responses sounded as his mother worked her way around the table, bending low to kiss each of them on the cheek. At least until she got to David, who was still dressed, as she’d put it that morning, like a prison escapee.
It wouldn’t make her happy, but he’d already gotten home late, and another fifteen minutes to shower and change would have thrown off her carefully crafted schedule.
“Oh, David,” his mother said. “Really?”
Dad held his hands up. “Already? What is it?”
“She’s mad I’m wearing jeans.”
Mom smacked his shoulder and moved to her seat. “I’m not mad.”
“Yeah, you are. And I’m sorry. I was running around working on your project all afternoon. My choice was to shower, change and let the food get cold or just wash up quick. I chose to not ruin your meal.”
“You were doomed either way,” Zac said.
“Amen, brother.”
Penny passed the dinner rolls without snagging one. “What project?”
“Well,” Mom said, “I hope it’s good news.”
David took two rolls and passed the basket to Mom. “Eh. Halfway. I got her to talk to the detective. She spent all afternoon working on a new drawing. You’re going to owe her big for that alone, but she’s agreed to do your reconstruction. And, oh yeah, while she was at the lab viewing the skull, the building she lives and works out of got condemned.”
Clothing issue already forgotten, Mom’s jaw dropped. “Condemned?”
“It has to be a mistake. The place, for as old as it is, is in great shape. Anyway, I set her up in my condo so she has a place to work. She’s staying in a hotel until it gets sorted out.”
“What project?” Penny repeated.
Mom passed the basket of rolls on. “David is helping me on another cold case.”
From the other end of the table, Dad coughed up whatever he was drinking. Russ shot out of his chair and slapped Dad’s back a few times.
“Are you all right, dear?” Mom asked, perfectly calm, and David had to laugh.
Dad didn’t look all right. Not with the red cheeks that probably had nothing to do with the coughing fit. “I’m fine. Is this the cold case you and Irene eavesdropped on last night? You’re not volunteering us again, are you?”
“No. Of course not. I spoke to Irene this morning. They’re willing to help. So David is handling it this time.”
What now? David stabbed his fork into a couple of slices of roast and then grabbed some ham. “Uh, no, I’m not. I told you I’d do this one thing. That’s it. From here on out it’s someone else’s deal. I’m not an investigator and I’m damned sure not a criminal attorney.”
The minute—no, second, millisecond—it left his mouth, he regretted it. Replaying it in his mind, he knew it sounded bad. As if he was once again singling himself out from his family. Penny had never been one to let that go. And then Dad and Zac would take her side and Mom would try to stay neutral, but that never worked because staying neutral meant she wasn’t on either side. Which made David the one standing alone, irritated and feeling childish.
But he’d nix it straight away. “I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, David,” Penny drawled, “we’re aware that you chose civil law. What’s the matter? Bored? Coming to the dark side?”
“Penny,” Russ said, his voice tinged with warning.
David breathed in and held his hand up. “It’s okay. That sounded bad. I was about to say I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
Penny sawed at the roast on her plate. “Well, that’d be a first, wouldn’t it?”
So much for the truce. His plan for making nice with his sister had been an epic fail. But this was years of damage done by the two of them and he’d take his share of the responsibility. He’d had his own demons to battle—petty jealousy, for one. Penny was not only the baby, but also the only girl, so she basically got away with murder. She’d also become the golden child their father could groom into taking over the firm. A role David had rejected and shouldn’t have been bothered by, but he’d allowed it to intensify his resentment of his sister. At least until recently when he’d realized it wasn’t Penny’s role at the firm he envied, but their father’s approval.
And now it needed to stop.
David stood, tossed his napkin onto the table and tugged his sister’s jacket sleeve. “Come with me.”
“No.”
“We need to talk.”
“I’m eating.”
“I know. We need to talk. Now.”
“No, David. I’m hungry and this food will get cold.”
Russ jerked his head sideways. “Penny.”
Points to him for trying to get his girlfriend to cooperate.
“Whatever it is, David, we c
an talk here.”
Great. She wanted to do it in front of everyone. Whatever. “Fine. We’ll talk here. I’m home now. Okay? Moved all the way back here from Boston because guess what? It would be nice to feel like a part of this family.”
“And whose fault—”
“My fault. But you helped me out the door. I’ll own my part, but you’re not exactly easy. Now, though? I’m tired of fighting. I want my sister back. But you, you’re like a...a panther...ready to pounce on every damned thing I say and it wears me the hell out. Every time we’re together I have to mentally psyche myself up for it. Let’s forget the stupidity and figure out how to get along.”
Any chatter going on stopped. Zac sighed, grabbed a roll out of the basket in front of him, tore it in two and handed half to Emma. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”
And Emma, God bless her, laughed.
Apparently horrified over her outburst, she slapped her hand over her mouth, forgetting, of course, about the roll, and wound up bouncing it off her nose.
Everyone, including David, cracked up. Who knew sweet, levelheaded Emma had comedic timing?
“Mrs. Hennings,” she said, “I’m so sorry.”
But Mom laughed right along with them. “Oh, Emma, not at all. Thank you for the diversion.” She swung her finger between David and Penny. “Please compromise. David, let her eat and then the two of you can go in the study and work this out. Kill each other if you must, but do not ruin my meal.”
“Wow, Mom,” Zac said.
“You.” She poked her finger at him. “Hush.”
David took his seat again, flattened his napkin in his lap and started shoveling food because Emma wasn’t the only one who’d need strength.
“Can we talk about this cold case?” Dad asked. “Is it that skull you told me about last night?”
Mom set her fork down and sat back in her chair. “Yes. The skull. You said your investigators were busy and David is bored. He agreed to do it.”
Swallowing the mound of food in his mouth, David turned to his father. “Now, that’s funny. I told her I’d talk to the sculptor. That’s all.”
His mother. Unbelievable. David slammed the full glass of water in front of him. As soon as dessert was cleared and he had his chat with Penny, he was going to bed. Crazy, exhausting day.
Penny gripped his sleeve and he glanced down. Still hanging on, she leaned over. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight anymore, either. I’ll try. I promise.”
“Thank you. By the way—” he leaned closer, bumping her shoulder “—I love you. I haven’t said that enough. You drive me nuts, but I do love you.”
“Huh. You really are full of surprises tonight.”
“Penny,” Russ said.
But his sister kept her gaze focused on David and smiled up at him. “I love you, too. And I’m glad you’re back. Even if you drive me nuts, too.”
* * *
AT TEN THE next morning, accompanied by Detective McCall and David, Amanda again entered the county forensic lab, but unlike the day before, she knew what to expect from this particular visit. Yesterday, she’d been determined to draw the sketch and be done with her end of this bargain. At least until she’d set eyes on the actual skull. She’d seen human skulls before in classes and workshops, but in those instances, the experience was more clinical. An artist studying a subject. This time, when she looked at the skull, studied the wound on the back of it, she imagined a young woman, someone younger than herself, getting her head bashed.
And that, she almost couldn’t stand. Her death had most likely been fast, but no one should suffer the violence surrounding it. Particularly a twenty-year-old woman.
Paul, the forensic anthropologist she’d met yesterday, glanced over, spotted them and set aside some bones he’d been working with. His lips lifted into a small smile. “Good to see you back.”
Amanda nodded. “Hi, Paul.” She turned to David. “This is David Hennings, and I think you know Detective McCall.”
The men exchanged hellos as Paul led them to the metal table Amanda had worked at the day before. On top sat a box with a manila folder next to it. Amanda assumed that would be the required documentation and copies of any pertinent information she would need to sign for.
Detective McCall walked to the opposite side and shuffled through the folder. “It’s all here?”
“Far as I know.” Paul faced Amanda. “We gave you copies of photos of where the body was found, the detective’s notes, the anthropologist’s report and the dentist’s report. We just need you to sign everything out.”
McCall handed one of the sheets over and Amanda perused it. At the very top it read Forensic Art Activity Report and below that was written the name of the law-enforcement division she’d be working with. In this case, Special Crimes. Whatever that meant. Below that were boxes asking for administrative details of the case, the date, who requested the work to be done, the case number and so on. The next larger section pertained to the examination and analysis portion of the investigation. That section requested everything from the race and sex of the victim to the clothing and accessories that may have accompanied the body. Sadly, in this case, Amanda would only be taking the skull cast and copies from the case file.
She read through the file quickly, then glanced at the box where the plaster cast waited for her to take possession. What am I doing? Last night she’d been so sure this was the right decision, but once she signed this paperwork she was in it. Knee-deep, which was terrifying. Sure, she could always back out, tell the detective she’d tried but couldn’t do it. She wasn’t on their payroll and wouldn’t be taking taxpayer dollars, but she’d given her word. If she backed out, she’d disappoint all parties.
And commitment meant something.
I’m stuck. She let out a small breath and glanced at the box again. Beside her, David angled toward her and she could feel that penetrating gaze reading her.
“Uh, fellas,” he said, “wanna give us a minute?”
Thank you.
After a short pause, McCall nodded. “No problem.”
Amanda waited for Paul and the detective to reach the far side of the room where Paul had been working when they’d first arrived.
She set the pen on the table and David puckered his lips slightly before shifting an inch closer and nudging her with his elbow. “Second thoughts?”
“Nerves.”
“You’re about to take possession of a skull with the intent of reconstructing it and helping identify a murder victim. I’d say feeling nervous is reasonable.”
To him maybe. To her it brought every fear, all those years of wondering what her mother’s life had been like, the emotional toll, bubbling up. Since her mother’s death, she’d fought the negativity, fought the desire to try forensic work, fought the urge to make a difference because somewhere down deep, she knew, it would be all-consuming. The highs and lows that came with this type of work would be constant. All-consuming meant winding up like her mother.
That, she would not do.
“Look,” he said, “if you don’t want to do this, we’ll walk out of here. Personally, I think you’re intrigued by this project. You did the sketch hoping that would be enough. Then you saw the sketch and decided to do the reconstruction. At each juncture you’ve tried to talk yourself out of this. Maybe that’s your pattern, this going back and forth. I don’t know. Doesn’t really matter. But if you leave without that skull, you’ll always wonder. And that’s a rotten way to live.”
She tapped her fingers against the table, considering the options. What if she pulled it off? What if she took this skull back to her studio—well, David’s condo, which was her makeshift studio—completed the reconstruction and was able to help them identify the woman?
Really, that should be her only thought right now. Rather than worrying abo
ut her own emotional stability, she should focus on the victim. On bringing this woman home and giving her family answers.
She picked up the pen, rolled it between her fingers—do it—and scribbled her name on the form. Then she shoved it as far across the table as she could, hoping it would keep her from changing her mind and ripping the thing up.
David laughed. “You’re cute, Amanda.”
McCall and Paul wandered back over. Paul took possession of the form—it’s done now—and slid the box in front of her.
“We packed it good to protect it.” He tapped the top of the box. “It’s only a cast, but she’s been here a while. Take good care of her.”
Amanda grasped the box, her fingers wrapping around the edges as she slid it toward her. “I will. She’ll be safe with me.”
Chapter Six
At the condo, David placed the box containing the skull cast on one of the folding tables they’d set up the night before. He wasn’t sure where Amanda would want it positioned but figured his best option was to let her deal with it in her own way. Give her some space.
Later.
Right now he’d like to take her to lunch, maybe get her mind off the fact that the city still hadn’t returned her landlord’s calls.
David had pretty much decided to give the landlord until the end of the day to make something happen. After that, he’d work his own contacts to speed things up.
“I have an idea,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“I have a buddy. Brian Dyce. His mom was at the fund-raiser you attended the other night.”
“She sat at my table. Lovely woman. You’re friends with her son?”
“We went to grammar school together. That was before his parents started the youth center and his father became a bigwig. If you have time, I’ll take you to lunch now and then we could swing by the center. Show them your sketch. It’s a long shot, but they know people at the area shelters. Maybe someone will recognize the woman.”
The Rebel Page 6