Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

"Maybe no one is home," I said, looking around. "No cars in the driveway."

"Maybe they park in the garage," Martinez said.

"Do people actually do that?"

"That's the rumor," he said.

I pulled the hood up on my raincoat and opened the door, hurrying to the covered front entry.

"Is it me or does this kind of look like the house from Home Alone ?"

Martinez snorted out a laugh and rang the doorbell. It wasn't long before an older woman with short silver hair answered the door. She wore neat navy slacks and a white blouse.

"I'm Detective Martinez," he said, showing her his badge. "And this is Dr. Graves. We need to speak to the Lidles."

A look of fear flashed across the woman's eyes and she licked her lips nervously. "Only Mrs. Lidle is here," she said. "The girls are all home from school sick, so things have been a little hectic this morning. Come in out of the wet."

We thanked her and stepped into a generous foyer. There was a large staircase of pale oak and a round table with fresh flowers in a vase. I was surprised at the warmth inside. It was homey, despite the size of the house. There were obvious signs that a family lived here—framed pictures on the wall behind the stairs, a toy car stuck under the entry table, and a pink backpack tossed in a corner.

"Do you live here, Ms…?" Martinez asked her.

"Oh," she said, surprised. "I'm Marsha Callan." She extended her hand to Martinez politely and then to me. "Sorry, I'm not used to the police showing up at the door. My brother got into a bit of trouble with drugs when he was in high school, and my memories of the cops showing up at our house aren't my favorite."

"No, I could see why that would color your experience," Martinez said, smiling kindly to put her at ease. "No one is in trouble."

"I'm the housekeeper," she said. "I come in two days a week and clean up, do laundry, and do some meal prep for the rest of the week. Mrs. Lidle has her hands full between the girls and all their activities."

My gaze drifted to the big family portrait on the wall, and I stared into the face of Evie Lidle, sitting nestled between her parents and four sisters. They all looked like a carbon copy of each other—dandelion fluff white hair and blue eyes. The girls looked just like their mother, and in the center of the picture was Everett Lidle, smiling proudly. They looked like an all-American family.

"Do you know when Mr. Lidle will be available?" Martinez asked her.

"He's out of town," she said. "He's been gone since Sunday after church at a conference in San Francisco. He's not due back until tomorrow night."

"Is there a place where I can talk to Mrs. Lidle privately?" he asked.

She hesitated for a moment, looking somberly back and forth between me and Martinez, and then she nodded. "Go on into the family room," she said, pointing to our left. "I've already cleaned up in there so you have a place to sit. I'll go get Mrs. Lidle for you and send her down."

She hesitated again as she started to make her way up the stairs, and then she looked back at us. "Should I," she said, and then paused. "Should I call Mrs. Lidle's mother and have her come over?"

Martinez's eyes were filled with compassion when he nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I think that would be a good idea."

She nodded again and then hurried up the stairs, and I followed Martinez into the family room.

"Not what I was expecting," Martinez said, blowing out a breath. "This is a good house. Homey."

The family room had a large sectional sofa and two oversized chairs in front of a big wood-burning fireplace. There was a large-screen television hanging above the mantel and built-in bookcases on either side that were filled to the brim with fiction and nonfiction alike. It was eclectic and unorganized, and stuck between two of the books was a half-dressed Barbie doll.

Neither of us sat, but stood in the center of a well-used and loved room, waiting for what was to come. We only had to wait a few minutes to hear footsteps coming rapidly down the stairs.

The Sunday-best Mrs. Lidle from the family portrait was long gone, and in her place was a regular mom dressed in gray sweats and thick athletic socks. Her hair was piled up in a disheveled ponytail, and she was makeup free. There was a piece of cracker stuck in her hair.

"Hi," she said, coming into the room to greet us. "Marsha told me you needed to speak to me. But I'll tell you it's really not a good time. All the girls are down with the stomach flu. I can't decide if my husband is a psychic and knew leaving town was the wise decision, or if he's really just that lucky."

"We're sorry to have to intrude," Martinez said. "But this is truly urgent."

Her smile faded and she said, "Is everything okay? Did something happen to Everett?"

"No, ma'am," Martinez said. "Why don't we sit down over here. Your home is lovely, by the way."

Martinez took her elbow and led her to the couch, and she let him, sitting down hesitantly.

"Most days it feels like a demolition zone," she said. "Thank God for Marsha. Y'all are making me nervous. If there's bad news I'd prefer you just tell me."

Martinez nodded. We both knew this was the best way, just straight out and to the point.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you that we found your daughter Evelyn deceased early this morning. She was killed."

She looked at us like we were both crazy before she shook her head. "Evie? That's impossible. Evie's not dead. She's just been sick. She missed school yesterday. She went to a birthday party Saturday and brought home a virus. All the kids who were at the party got it. She went to spend the night at Everett's mom and dad's house so she wouldn't spread it to the rest of us." Her voice trailed off. "But that obviously didn't work."

"Mrs. Lidle," Martinez said.

"Jenny," she said, the color draining from her face and her motions panicked. "Let me call my mother-in-law. You'll see this is a big misunderstanding. It's not Evie. It's some other girl."

"Jenny," I said softly. "My name is Dr. Graves."

She nodded and said, "I know who you are." By this time big fat tears were welling in her eyes.

"We're very sorry for your loss," I told her. "I confirmed her identity this morning through dental records. She broke her arm a couple of years ago?"

Jenny nodded slowly. "Everett got her a skateboard for her birthday after I told him not to. She fell off and broke her arm. I was so mad." And then she buried her face in her hands and wept with the grief of a mother.

"Jenny," Martinez said, touching her shoulder gently. "I can't even imagine what you're going through right now, but we need to ask you some very important questions. The sooner we can get information the faster we can find out who did this to Evie."

"I need Everett," she said. "How do I even tell him? He and Evie had a special bond. Of all the girls, the two of them were like peas in a pod." Her breath caught on a sob and I handed her a tissue.

"Marsha called your mother," I told her. "She'll be here soon so someone can be with you and the girls."

"Oh God," she said, clapping her hands over her mouth. "The girls, the girls. This can't be real. It can't be real."

"You said Evie was at your in-laws'?" Martinez prompted. "When was the last time you talked to her?"

Jenny bit her lip hard, trying to get herself under control. "Umm…around four or five o'clock yesterday. I called Kitty and told her I was knee deep in vomit and she told me Evie had been feeling much better and was going stir crazy. She was going to have Molly make homemade chicken soup for dinner, and she told me she was happy to keep her another day or two until the other girls got better. Things got pretty crazy here after that so I didn't check in again. I should have checked in."

"You did what you had to do and focused on the other girls," I reassured her. "You're a good mom."

"Molly?" Martinez asked.

"Molly Ryan. She's their chef," Jenny said. "She's been with them more than forty years. I think she worked for Kitty's parents before that. Most of their staff has been there a long time. Kitty is very sweet. They love her."

The meal and timing lined up with what I'd found in the victim's stomach during the autopsy. Which meant Kitty Lidle was probably the last person to see Evie alive. I looked at Martinez and he must have had the same thought because he stood and took out his phone and then walked out into the foyer.

His voice was muffled but I could hear him call for units to respond to Kitty Lidle's home, and for medics to stand by. If Evie Lidle had been kidnapped out of one of the wealthiest people in the state's high-security mansion, then it was very possible we might have more bodies on our hands.

"Tell me about your girls," I said to Jenny, just to keep her mind occupied. "I saw the portrait out in the foyer."

"Things can change a lot in two years," she said, sadly. "We always had problems with my oldest daughter, Emma. Rebellion. From about the time she was Evie's age until she left home. Drugs, sex, alcohol, you name it. We tried to get her into rehab and she'd just lash out at us. We didn't know what to do, and I know it scared the younger girls. She graduated from high school last year and left home. She was only seventeen. We haven't been in contact with her. We don't even know where she is. Everett thinks his father is sending her money."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said as Martinez came back in and sat down.

"Evie was like our redemption child," she said. "Such a good girl. Never got into trouble and always taking care of her little sisters like she was their mother. I had two miscarriages between Emma and Evie, so we had a bit of a gap. And then after Evie came we never had a problem conceiving again. Elise came a year after Evie, and Eloise a year after Elise. We thought we were done and then I found out I was pregnant with Estelle. She's in kindergarten."

She looked at me intently, desperation in her eyes. "Does it make me a bad mother that I don't want to know what happened to Evie?" she asked, fresh tears coursing down her cheeks. "If I don't hear what happened, I won't be able to imagine it in my head when I close my eyes. Does that make me a coward?"

"No," Martinez said. "It makes you a mother."

"Did she…" Jenny paused on a watery breath. "Did she suffer?"

"No," I lied. Sometimes lying was the kindest thing you could do for a grieving family. They could read the autopsy report, but most didn't. It made things too real.

"It's possible that Evie's murder was a kidnapping gone wrong," Martinez said. "Especially since she was taken from her grandparents' home. Has anyone ever threatened your family?"

"Sure," she said, wrapping her arms tight around her torso. "It comes with the territory, I guess. I didn't grow up like Everett did with bodyguards and high-security private schools, so that world was a shock to me after we were married. They all talked about death threats and kidnappings as if it were normal."

"There were threats?" Martinez asked. "Any recent?"

"Not recent," she said. "When Everett was a child. When his father decided to run for a Senate seat, but that was the only time I'm aware of. Everett has an older brother and younger sister, so they were always surrounded by security. Someone tried to run their driver off the road after he'd picked them up from school, and apparently a guy got the door open and was trying to pull Janet out of the car. She was the youngest and smallest. But it was in a crowded area and several men rushed the kidnappers. They escaped and security was increased. I don't think they had any more attempts after that.

"Our girls have lived a mostly normal life," she continued. "Or at least we try to give them that. They go to Dolley Madison School for Girls in DC. The school has good security, but we've never had any issues here. Not even after Everett was elected to the county council. Mostly just some strongly worded letters disapproving of his stance on different issues."

I winced, thinking of Sheldon's mother.

"Do your in-laws still receive threats?" I asked.

"If they do they don't mention it," she said, shrugging. "Kitty no longer runs the family business, though she is still on the board of directors. She retired several years ago and Everett's older brother, Phin, sees to all the day-to-day operation. Kitty doesn't really like to leave the house anymore. She's always been like that. Robert is the social one. He likes the political scene, and he's heavily involved with lobbyist groups, especially now that my sister-in-law is a congresswoman."

"That would be Janet Lidle-Downey?"

"Yes," Jenny answered. "Robert keeps an apartment in the city so he can stay in the middle of things."

"Do Robert and Kitty have marital problems? Financial problems?" Martinez asked.

Jenny dropped her head down to look at her knees, as if the weight of holding it up was too much to bear. Exhaustion seemed to blanket her. "No, I think they've always just coexisted. To hear Everett talk about them, I don't think they were ever a love match. Kitty's father acquired Robert's father's company. It was more of a business merger with marriage on the side.

"Kitty had a family legacy to uphold, and I think Robert always felt like he needed to live up to it. They never fight or anything. They always seem content to just enjoy what they enjoy and leave the other to do whatever they please. But they're usually together for family functions."

"Evie never mentioned anyone bothering her at school or any other activities she's involved in?" I asked.

"No," Jenny said. "She's never had any issues. I don't understand why anyone would hurt her. She was such a sweet girl. So sweet." And then Jenny Lidle curled herself into a ball and wept.