AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That was what the person on the other end of the line had said.
And the woman had called Clarisse “Ms. Frazier.” Another alias. Gibson wondered how many she had.
Probably more than the number of shoes I own.She looked down at her ratty pair of Adidas sneakers.Yeah, definitely more.
No one would really say that about their parents, not when talking about day care. But they might if theyhadparents in assisted living or a nursing home. So did Clarisse have that in her life? Until hermotherwent missing?
She had an intriguing thought. Could Clarisse be Francine Langhorne? She sounded around Gibson’s age, which would be in the ballpark with what she knew about Francine.
She buttered the pancakes, ladled syrup on them, and put them on plates with the scrambled eggs, and the turkey bacon already cut up into easily swallowed pieces. She then poured the milk into plastic cups with snap tops and built-in straws, making them spill proof.
Whoever invented these cupsmusthave had kids.
Tommy asked for more syrup and said, “Me do it,” when she brought it over. He made a mess of it, but she said nothing. She had long ago learned to pick her battles, and making a lake on your plate with syrup was not a hill she was willing to die on.
As Tommy and Darby ate, Gibson munched on a piece of bacon. She pulled out her laptop and looked at the material she had downloaded on the Langhorne family, studying the image of Francine Langhorne in particular. It looked like the kids were being rushed into a car by their mother, Geraldine. The hulking Doug Langhorne, his face dour and pinched, had turned to stare into the camera. She didn’t like that look at all.
Gibson next turned to Francine. Her look was far more nuanced than her brother’s. The girl’s large eyes were sad, but there was an underlying determination that spoke of strength, of resiliency. Such a person could survive much, Gibson surmised, including a crooked dad, the murderous mob, and a stint in WITSEC. And, finally, abandonment by her parents.
Earl Beckett had said Doug had stayed with his sister until she was old enough to voluntarily leave WITSEC. Under the circumstances, they probably had only each other, and a circling-of-the-wagons mentality would be perfectly understandable.
My problem is, I don’t know enough about the Langhornes, particularly the kids.But then it occurred to her.Idiot, you have a source that can help you on that.
When Silva arrived and took over, Gibson rushed to her office and made the call.
Earl Beckett was actually in Williamsburg for a meeting today and could meet her for coffee nearby in about an hour, he told her.
She ran upstairs, showered, and changed, and was at the coffee shop in the historic district of Williamsburg five minutes early. When Beckett came walking up, she greeted him, and they went inside and ordered their coffees.
Once they were settled at a table, Beckett said, “I thought I might hear from you.”
“Why is that?”
“I looked you up after you and Sullivan came to see me. Even talked to some folks who knew you. ‘Dog with a bone that won’t let go’ is how you were described.”
“I guess I don’t like unanswered questions.”
“So what questions canIanswer for you?”
“I’d like you to tell me about the Langhornes. The kids. The family dynamic. The relationship between husband and wife, but particularly about the kids.”
“You think one of them tracked down their daddy and doled out their own justice?”
“It’s certainly a possibility.”
He nodded and sipped his coffee. “Family dynamics are a strange thing. You see similarities in some families, but every one of them is unique, too. Now, WITSEC families are not the norm. They are as far from the norm as it is possible to be, in fact, except if you’re in a family of serial killers.”
“You mean the stress and the upheaval?”
“Yes, and having to build a new life from scratch, but it can’t be any kind of, well, special life, I guess is what I’m trying to say. You’re not going to grow up to be a rock star or CEO or a pro athlete after being in WITSEC. At least I’ve never seen that happen. Your opportunities are definitely limited, and that’s a damn shame, really.”
Gibson fingered her coffee cup, thinking of her own children at the moment. “And for the kids it had nothing to do with them and everything to do with decisions their parents made. Well, in this case, Harry Langhorne mostly.”
“Exactly. And let me tell you, that can build up to a volcano of resentment. I’ve seen that happen to quite a few WITSEC families.”
“Is that what happened with the Langhornes?”
Beckett nodded. “When I got assigned there the kids were young teens. And Harry, to put it politely, was a Class A asshole. He rode both of them hard. Whatever they did, it wasn’t good enough. Whatever bad happened, it was their fault. And he seemed to resent when either of them had any fun or tried to be normal.” He eyed Gibson. “I mentioned the psych eval we do for all of the people coming into the program?”
