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She found nothing really of significance. Back then there were no armies of people adding info to the internet every millisecond of every day, even though they were now playing a spirited game of catch-up on that score. You would be hard-pressed to name a topic that you couldn’t find something out about online. There was a YouTube video about every conceivable thing a human had ever done or would ever attempt to do.
She had repaired the internal guts of her outdoor water faucets by watching one DIY video put up by a very helpful fellow in Illinois.
Yeah, what a thrill that had been. But it saved me paying a plumber like three hundred bucks.
But there also weren’t any other in-depth newspaper articles on the family, and what had happened to them. It was like they had simply vanished.
They might have changed their names. In fact, it was probable. The Feds might have put them all into WITSEC, or Witness Protection. If so, she would probably never find them.
But then how did Langhorne end up dead at Stormfield under the name Daniel Pottinger? Had he abandoned his family? Were they all dead?
There was no way for her to answer that. At least not right now.
She refocused on Clarisse.
Until I find out her real name. And I will find it, if it’s the last thing I ever do.
She was under no illusions that Clarisse’s business with the man was aboveboard. Innocent people didn’t play the kind of elaborate mind games she did. And they went to the police when finding a dead body unless they had guilty secrets of their own to keep hidden.
On the phone Clarisse had said that some of the mobster descendants could be men orwomen. That was the clue Gibson thought she had unwittingly let slip.
Is she referring to herself? Is she somehow connected to Langhorne and the Jersey mob from way back? She sounded way too young for that, but maybe she’s a child of one of them? Grandchild, even?
Gibson really believed nothing Clarisse had told her. But there was usually an element of truth mixed in with a lie, at least for the really excellent liars like Clarisse undoubtedly was.
And there had been something else the woman had said. But Gibson couldn’t think of it right now.
A clue?As Clarisse had earlier said, somewhat comically. Yes, it might be a clue.
If I can think of it.
CHAPTER16
L?ATER THAT DAY, GIBSON FEDthe kids lunch, then sat there watching them and continually wiping their mouths, and the table, and the floor when Tommy, and then copycat Darby, got particularly adventurous with their meals.
Afterward she put them in the van and drove them to a nearby park, where they walked around and threw pennies into a fountain, and played tag and then hide-and-seek, though neither of her children were all that good with following the rules.
But then neither am I.
As she sat and laughed and applauded their spirited antics, she wondered about what her father had said. If something happened to her, where would her kids go? Her parents couldn’t take care of them, not full-time. And she would never allow her ex to go anywhere near her kids, even if the jerk could be found. And one of her younger brothers had his hands full with his own family. Her other sibling was single and had never managed to get his crap together; he couldn’t take care of himself, much less two toddlers. She had tried to dial up some cover from Sullivan, but he had turned her down flat.
So I’m it. And no matter how much I want to follow this through, should I? Can I risk it? Can I riskthem?
She giggled as Darby ran in circles so fast she fell down dizzy and laughing, while Tommy sprinted around growling like a bear, or a reasonable facsimile thereof.
She had brought the phone with her. She looked at it.
You can walk away right now. Never call this number again. And never answer it when and if she does call. But if she’s a psycho, which certainly might be the case? If that sends her over the edge? Do you have a shot at controlling this by keeping on it?
She stared at the phone for nearly a minute as this mental back-and-forth ping-ponged inside her head. Finally, she hit the number and waited. It rang so long she was just about to click off.
“You surprise me,” said Clarisse.
“Don’t you keep the Batphone right next to you at all times?”
“I wanted to see how tenacious and patient you were. Those twin attributes can tell pretty much everything you need to know about someone.”
“Have you found someone else to get the glory?” she asked Clarisse.
