Page 47 of Dirty Looks

“Jack, I don’t know if you’ve met my brother and sister before,” Everett said.

“We have,” Janet Lidle-Downey said, coming forward to take Jack’s hand warmly and then mine. “Though just briefly a time at some political function.” She was a petite woman, built very much like her mother, though Janet’s hair was impossibly dark and her eyes a startling shade of blue. She was an attractive woman, but the lines of grief had etched themselves around her eyes and mouth.

“You have a good memory,” Jack said.

“Comes with the territory,” she said, her mouth almost reaching a smile.

“My wife, Jaye,” Jack said.

“And this is my husband, Carson,” Janet said.

A short, quiet man with gentle eyes and soft hands came forward to greet us. He looked to be at least a decade older than Janet, possibly more, but they touched each other affectionately and you could see they were a unit. You could tell a lot about a marriage by the way couples interacted in public.

“My brother, Phin,” Everett said.

You could feel the tension there between brothers. Everett’s mouth tightened into a firm line and he looked down at his wife, kissing her gently on the head. I knew it probably hadn’t been easy to grow up as the second son in a family that was as close to American royalty as you could get. His brother took over the family business and his sister was a congresswoman. But Everett had chosen a life of service in a small community and he never made national news.

Phin Lidle was an imposing figure. He was an inch taller and broader through the shoulders than his brother. He carried himself with authority and dignity. All of that probably wouldhave mattered except I remembered seeing the pictures of him on TMZ in a seedy motel room with his boxers around his ankles and a tableful of lines of cocaine.

He shook Jack’s hand, but didn’t bother to shake mine, which I was perfectly okay with.

“And these are our friends Peter and Tiffany Bancroft,” Everett said. “They might as well be family. We’ve known them since college. Our kids all go to school together.”

“I’m the head of school at the Dolley Madison School for Girls,” Tiffany said. “We’ve closed down for the rest of the week. Evie touched so many lives. Had so many friends.” She started to tear up and tried desperately to keep her tears from falling by pressing under her eyes, but still a few escaped.

“We’ve been fielding calls all day,” Peter said. “We’ve been working on getting counseling centers set up so students and parents both can have access. I’m the school psychologist.”

Peter and Tiffany Bancroft were an attractive couple, obviously well educated and well to do. Peter was tall and took good care of himself. I imagined him playing tennis several times a week at his club, and making himself a dry martini when he got home from school every day.

Tiffany was petite and blond and wore an ice-blue sweater set and matching pants, and there was a single strand of pearls around her neck and matching pearl studs in her ears. She moved close to Jenny and put her arm around her, and Jenny hugged her hard as they wept together.

“It’s okay,” Tiffany kept telling her. “However you need to grieve is okay. We’re here for you no matter what you think you need or don’t need. Just rely on us to help.”

Jenny nodded and wiped her eyes and sat down on the couch behind her. And then she looked at me out of tear-drenched eyes. Everett sat down next to her and they clasped hands. Everyone else surrounded them like fierce protectors.

“When can we have her?” Jenny asked. “When can we see her?”

I hesitated, looking back and forth between Everett and Jenny. “It will be at least a couple of days. Depending on the investigation. But I promise you we’ll take good care of her.”

There were certain things I’d learned never to mention to parents of children. They had the knowledge in their heads, and they’d eventually come to terms, but I never reminded them that their child had been through an autopsy unless they asked me specific questions.

And I couldn’t bring myself to tell any of them that they shouldn’t see her remains. No one should have to remember their child that way.

“I don’t know what to do next,” Jenny said. “I always do better when I have something to do. She has a new dress. We just went shopping last week for some spring clothes. All this rain was getting us down, and she said she wanted bright color so she’d look like sunshine even if there was none outside.”

Jenny hiccupped out a sigh and I watched a silent tear slide down Everett Lidle’s face.

“It’s okay to make plans,” I told her softly. “I’ll give her back to you as soon as they give me the word.”

Jenny nodded and then looked up at her husband. “I think I need to lie down now.”

“I’ll take her,” Tiffany said, sliding an arm under her friend and helping her to her feet. “Come on, love. I’ll tuck you in. Just like you used to do for me when we were in college and I cried myself to sleep over Peter flirting with that horrible cheerleader instead of me.”

Jenny gave a laugh-sob, and then they disappeared out of the room together.

“Jack,” Everett said. “I need you to find the son of a bitch who did this to my daughter. I don’t know what we’ll do to think that he’s still out there somewhere. Doing those things to other girls.”

Jack nodded and said, “We’ll find him.”

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