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She would have been eleven when she lost her father. The same age I’d been when mine was killed.
“But we’re lucky,” Lida continued. “Uncle Ben has taken really good care of us and made sure that Michael got the best care possible.”
“I take care of my family,” he said, giving her a warm smile. Then he looked up and past us. I glanced back to see Michael standing in the entrance to the upstairs hallway, gaze flicking rapidly over us and then to his sister as if begging for an explanation.
She rose and gestured to him. “C’mere, Michael,” she said with an encouraging smile. “The cops who saved me yesterday came by to say hi.”
His face cleared and he smiled broadly. “Hi!” he said with a wave. “I was playing piano.”
“I heard.” I gave him a smile as I stood. “It sounded beautiful.”
He beamed in response. “Lida’s writing new songs. I have to practice.” He waved again and then pivoted and disappeared down the hallway. A few seconds later the sound of piano resumed.
Ben let out an amused snort. “Michael has the attention span of a gnat,” he explained.
“Except when it comes to music,” Lida corrected.
Ben inclined his head to her in acknowledgment. “Except when it comes to music,” he agreed. “Then there’s no budging him unless he’s good and ready to be budged.”
I wanted to say something like, Well, at least he has that, but couldn’t think of a way to make it not sound stupid and patronizing.
“Well, we should probably leave you to enjoy your day,” I said instead, ducking the moment completely. “If you think of something that might help, or if anything happens again—anything at all—please let us know.” I pulled out a business card and handed it over to Lida.
Lida took it and tucked it into the front pocket of her jeans. “You bet. I really appreciate you coming by.”
“The same goes for me,” Ben Moran said with another warm smile as he accompanied us to the door. “And if the PD needs anything from me, be sure to have your chief give me a call.”
The way he’d phrased that sounded odd, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. I contented myself with a polite nod, then exited the house with Ryan. A dark green Lexus SUV was parked in the driveway beside Ryan’s car now—Ben’s, I assumed.
“Thoughts?” Ryan asked as soon as we were back in his car.
I opened my notebook and pulled a pen out of my bag. “She doesn’t seem terribly upset about the whole thing. Not like someone who had an attempt made on her life.”
“I noticed that too,” he said, brows drawing together. “She was certainly shocked and scared when it happened.”
“Maybe she simply wasn’t expecting it?”
“So if it was a publicity stunt,” he said, “then it’s one that she had no prior knowledge of.”
“And maybe she knows about it now, which would explain why she doesn’t seem worried about a crazy stalker.” I pondered that for a few seconds. “Or maybe she did know about it at the time, but she didn’t expect it to go that far with the whole getting thrown in the river thing.”
“That’s possible too,” he agreed. “Also, it’s a little thing, but the last song was one that she didn’t play guitar for.”
“Ooohh, good point. A bit harder to snatch someone up if they’re plugged in to an amp.”
“And she might not want to risk getting the guitar banged up either.” He drove quietly for a few minutes. I could see thoughts working behind his eyes, and I gave him the time to work through whatever he was trying to figure out.
“Yep,” he finally said. “I’m fairly inclined to believe the publicity stunt angle. And if it was revealed now to be a stunt, that would be the wrong kind of publicity. Even if she wasn’t involved, she’d want to keep it quiet since she’d be hurt by the revelation that it was a scheme.”
“I like that theory,” I said. “Only one problem.”
He glanced at me. “The possibility that I’m wrong?”
I grinned. “Right. I mean, not that you’re ever wrong.”
“Never!”
“But, in that completely improbable circumstance when you were, then there’d still be a crazed stalker going after Lida.”
