“Okay, your friends’ thing. Katie, do you need any water?”
“I’m fine,” Kate said, still coughing. “I just—I was surprised.”
“Ignore Frank. He’s trying to stir the pot.”
“It’s more a joke than anything,” Frank said uncertainly. He fidgeted his sunglasses up and down the back of his head.
“It’s not a joke,” Louise said. “Poor thing. He was a little boy. If he shot her, it was obviously an accident.”
“I’m sorry, back up,” Kate said. “What do you mean, if he shot her? I thought Miranda committed suicide.”
“She did,” Louise said, just as Frank waggled his eyebrows and said, “So they say.”
Kate gritted her teeth. “Everything I read says she killed herself.”
Her aunt and uncle exchanged looks. Louise sighed. “The police ruled it a suicide. But only after they made a huge stink about it. They interrogated a bunch of people in town. Obviously we didn’t live here at the time, but my friend Roberta said the place was swarming with cops.”
“And my friend Victor was one of the detectives on the case,” Frank said. “According to him, they treated it as a full homicide investigation. They didn’t think she could have done it herself. Something about the forensic evidence. Like on CSI.”
“There’s all kinds of theories,” Louise said, talking more quickly now. She had resisted this course of conversation, but now that they were on it, she was going to lead the charge. “I mean, number one, Jake. Obviously. It’s always the husband. If you watch Lifetime, you know. Not that I watch Lifetime.”
“People just say Jake because they have to,” Frank said. “But everyone who knew him swears he was the nicest guy you ever met.”
“That’s what they always say about serial killers,” Louise said.
“Oh, yeah,” Frank said, remembering. “That’s another idea. The Zodiac Killer. You know he was never caught.”
“So basically,” Kate said, deadpan, “Miranda Brand was killed by Theo, Jake, or the Zodiac Killer.”
“Or someone else. Like maybe a crazed fan. I told you, there’s lots of theories.”
Kate shook her head. “Why would people think Theo did it? He was, what, ten, eleven?”
“Children do all kinds of crazy things,” Louise said.
“Yeah, crazy things like eating their own snot. You’re talking about shooting his mother. There must be some reason that rumor got started.”
“Apparently he was a very weird kid,” Frank said. “No friends at all. Sam Loomis said his nephew’s girlfriend saw Theo standing over a dead squirrel one time. Just poking at it with a long stick. Totally emotionless.”
Kate tried not to roll her eyes. An uncle’s friend’s memory of what his nephew’s girlfriend had said twenty years ago was not high on her list of reliable sources.
“And he hasn’t talked to anyone since he got here,” Louise put in. “He moves here for the whole summer, you’d think he’d try to get to know people a little. Especially the people who remember him from when he was younger.”
Kate said, “Yes, but—”
“And Miranda wasn’t all there. Did you know she was hospitalized?”
“Of course I did.”
“For wanting to kill her son,” Louise whispered. “Can you imagine? If Theo killed her, maybe it was self-defense.”
“To recap,” Kate said, “you think Miranda attacked Theo, he shot her, and then he covered it up.”
“There are lots of accidents with guns,” Frank said. “Just last week, in Tulsa—”
“Covered it up,” Louise scoffed. “I didn’t say that.”
“I agree he’s an asshole,” Kate said. “But those are some pretty sick rumors to spread about someone.”
“I’m not spreading rumors,” Louise said, shocked. “I’m just repeating what other people have said.”
“Right,” Kate said.
“And like we said,” Frank put in, maybe realizing the conversation had gone off the rails, “there are a lot of different options.”
“It’s not like anyone thinks he’s dangerous,” Louise said. After a pause, she added, “I did pick up a travel hair spray at Costco for you to bring to work, just in case. You can use it like pepper spray. Aim at the eyes.”
“You want me to pepper spray my boss?”
“Hair spray. I only got it as a precaution.” Louise patted Kate’s hand. “Your mother told me to keep an eye on you.”
At that last part, Kate felt a hiccup of surprise, which she concealed by sponging up a stray splash of champagne Louise had missed. She should have known. Her mother had been so overprotective the past few months. Terrified that the slightest inconvenience would send her daughter into a tailspin, Darcy lied about minuscule things: a speeding ticket, Kate’s father failing his cholesterol test. Whenever Kate found