Page 125 of You'll Never Find Me

“Back at Mom’s. Tess is with her.”

“I got a very interesting call before all this other shit went down. Vincent Bonetti is in Phoenix, and Miriam Endicott wants to arrange a meeting between him and Jennifer. And before you say no, I have an idea.”

Fifty-Four

Theo Washington

Margo owed him big-time.

Watch the church, she said. Keep an eye on her uncle, she said.

So when Theo was done with classes for the day, he parked himself outside St. Dominic’s under a big oak tree and rolled down the window. Laughter from kids running on the playground made him feel like a creep. Wouldn’t it be just fabulous if a couple cops rolled up on him as he watched the kids play.

He didn’t want to be here.

But it was Margo, and she’d made him cards that said he was an associate at Margo Angelhart Investigations. They looked pretty damn cool and official.

A rap on his window had him jumping. He immediately thought cop and that he would have to explain he wasn’t a pervert, that he was working, really.

He turned and saw the priest standing there, his collar very white against the black shirt and slacks. “Hey, um, Father. You doing good?”

Rafe smiled and said, “I appreciate you keeping an eye on things, but I’m sure my niece didn’t mean for you to sit out here all day.”

“Margo would be here, but she’s wrapping up another case. She’ll relieve me later.”

“Come in, have something cold to drink. I just made fresh iced tea. It’s hot out here.”

Without waiting for Theo’s answer, he started back toward the rectory.

Theo hesitated only a second, then followed.

Margo told him to keep an eye on her Uncle Rafe, might as well do it inside with a refreshing drink.

Still, Theo took one more look down the street, just to make sure Carillo wasn’t watching them.

All clear.

Fifty-Five

Virginia Bonetti aka Jennifer White

Jennifer had spent so long convincing herself that Virginia Bonetti was dead that she almost thought of herself as Jennifer White. She’d even adopted some of her dead best friend’s mannerisms, like twirling her hair when she was nervous.

But as soon as she saw her father walk into the conference room with Margo and Jack Thursday evening, she remembered exactly who she was. She expected anger and fear; instead she felt a deep overwhelming sorrow.

Her father looked like a shell of his former self. His hair gray, thinning. He still dressed well in his lightweight custom-made Italian suit. But he’d lost weight, his suit hanging loosely on his gaunt body.

A memory flashed from long ago, before she knew her father and grandfather were criminals, before she knew that her mother had been murdered. When her best friend was still alive and the two families—the Whites and the Bonettis—had a barbeque one Fourth of July. She and Jenny were nine and swimming in the pool and she clearly remembered her dad laughing at something Jenny’s dad had said, and the two of them looked so happy, as if they weren’t the bad guys, as if they were just average normal dads on a normal holiday weekend.

She and Jenny were making plans for both the upcoming school year and a trip to North Carolina with Virginia’s grandparents. A whole month in the mountains, no younger siblings, just her and Jenny and her grandparents.

The flash of young joy and excitement disappeared when she saw her brother walk into the room with Jack.

Jennifer was watching the room through a video camera. Her father didn’t know she was here, didn’t know she could hear everything he said. Ava Angelhart and her daughter Tess were with her, watching her, watching the room.

Jennifer stifled a sob as she realized that Tommy had grown into a man. He was twenty-four now—she had missed eight birthdays. He was so handsome, but he looked sad, too. She’d left him like she’d left her father. She’d left her little brother who she loved...but she hadn’t trusted him with the truth. She feared he would stop her.

That she would have let him stop her.