she said. “You sure were in a hurry to get them off last night.”
“You didn’t make the bed,” he added. “And your make-up and hair ties are all over the dresser.”
With a flustered sigh, Hanna threw her spatula down and stomped out of the room. Alex counted her footsteps on the stairs. Frances said, “Boy, keep an eye on that bacon, would you?”
Alex walked over to the stove, picked up the spatula and pushed the greasy meat around inside the pan. He had never cooked bacon before. He had no idea how to do it or when it would be done so he kept pushing it around. After a few minutes, Frances said, “Isn’t it done?”
“I—I don’t know,” Alex stammered.
Frances’s chair scraped across the tiles as he stood. “Stupid, stupid, useless boy,” he muttered. He pushed Alex out of the way and then held his hand out for the spatula. “Give me that, boy.”
But Alex didn’t want to. He didn’t want to give his father anything anymore. He was tired of yielding to him and his arbitrary demands. He held fast to the handle of the spatula.
“Boy,” Frances said, his voice rising. “I said, give me that!”
He seized the flat part of the handle, trying to snatch it from Alex’s hand. With a grunt, Alex began to wrestle him for it. With each push and pull, Frances grew more frustrated. Finally, he reached up, snaked a hand behind Alex’s head and pushed with all his might. Alex’s face slammed into the sizzling pan of bacon. A scream ripped from Alex’s throat as he scrambled away from the stove. His face was on fire. He ran to the kitchen sink and let the water run cold before thrusting his head beneath it.
It didn’t help.
By the time his mother came back into the room, led by his screams, Frances was again seated at the table, calmly sipping his coffee and reading the newspaper.
Twenty-Six
While Shannon and Christian drove the two hours back to their home in Callowhill to find Trinity’s letters, Josie brought Lisette home with her, and freshened up the guest bedroom so that Lisette could stay with them for the time being. It was ten at night, and poor Trout had been alone all day, so she took him for a run and fed him, checking her phone every few minutes to see if there was any word on Trinity. There wasn’t.
On her way back to the station house, Mettner called to let her know that Special Agent Drake Nally had arrived. “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she told him.
“We’re in the conference room. We’ll wait for you.”
Josie nearly forgot to put her vehicle in park after pulling into the municipal parking lot. She sprinted through the crowd of shouting reporters stationed at the back door and up to the first level. The conference room door was open. Around the table sat Gretchen, Mettner, and Noah together with Drake. Josie took in his dark brown eyes, neatly trimmed goatee and charcoal-colored suit. When he saw Josie, his face flushed. His lips moved as though to speak but no words came out. He stood up, and Josie saw he was tall and rangy, every bit the imposing federal agent except for the shock on his face. Drake walked around the table and extended a hand, finally managing to find some words.
“Sorry,” he said. “You just… you look exactly like her. When she’s not all made up, I mean.”
“Thank you for coming,” Josie said. “I assume the team brought you up to speed on all the developments. Not that there’s much to report. We’ve got far more questions than answers.”
He nodded and motioned to a thick file on the table in front of where he’d been sitting. “They did. I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you about this over the phone but it’s a lot to… get into.”
Josie looked at Mettner pointedly, mentally asking if he’d told Drake about the remains. He gave a brief shake of his head. Mettner was still keeping that detail close. Since Drake was here as a civilian, and not as an FBI agent, there was no need to tell him any details about the investigation that they deemed sensitive.
“What’s in the file?” Josie asked, turning back to Drake.
Drake remained standing while Josie sat down between Gretchen and Mettner. Noah sat across from her, next to Drake’s chair.
Drake pulled the file closer to him and placed a large palm over it. “In a minute,” he said.
Mettner spoke