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“There’s more,” Albert said.
He told her what he and Isabel and Norman had witnessed from the window, and how they had then raced down there to try to find the woman who had waved to them.
“But you didn’t find her,” Elizabeth said.
“We didn’t,” Isabel said.
“And you saw her from this window, which would have been a lot farther away than Max here was from her, if it was the same person.”
“True,” Albert said. “But—”
“Stop,” Elizabeth said. She appeared exhausted. “I don’t know what you expect me to think. It’s just … I don’t know. If only one of you had managed to get a picture.”
“Oh,” said Max. “I have a picture.”
The room went quiet as Elizabeth looked at him. “You have a picture?”
He got out his phone. “Our neighbor, Brian, the one who built the new house on the lot, has a security camera. Before I came over here I went over to see him and he gave me a screen capture—”
“A what?”
“A photo of what the security camera picked up,” Max said.
He brought the image up onto the phone’s screen and handed it to Elizabeth. She fumbled about under her covers for a pair of glasses, found them, and slipped them on.
“These don’t work that well for me anymore,” she said. “But let me have a look.” She still sounded skeptical as she touched the screen.
“What happened?” she asked, flustered. “What did I do?”
“It’s okay,” Max said. “You probably touched something you shouldn’t have.” He took the phone, found the image again, and held it out to her.
Elizabeth took a moment to focus. “It’s hard to see.”
Max took the phone back from her once again, this time using his thumb and index finger to enlarge the image. This time, he held it in front of Elizabeth so she wouldn’t have to touch the image and possibly disrupt it somehow.
“What do you think, Mom?” Albert asked.
His mother was silent for several seconds. She put her hand to her lips and held them there, as though trying to stop herself from saying what she wanted to say.
“Mom?” said Isabel.
Elizabeth took her hand away. When she spoke, her voice was no more than a whisper.
“Oh my God,” she said. “It’s Brie.”
Twenty
Andrew
The ringing of my phone had startled both of us, considering I’d just told Jayne that if Brie were still alive, she’d call. We both must have looked as though we’d heard an ominous sound in the basement. I felt my heart skip a beat.
I got out my phone and looked, first, at the screen. Nothing. The caller ID was blocked. Jayne had raised her head, trying to see who the caller was, so I turned the phone so she could see for herself. By this point, it had rung four times.
“Are you going to answer it?” she asked.
I nodded, tapped the screen, and put the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I said.
