“What happened to him?”
She sighs. “I wish I knew, dear. I came home from a trip to Europe and he’d already gone. That was after Penny vanished too. I like to think that they’re together. That they sailed off into the sunset and that was that.” She shakes her head. “But I’m not so sure it ended that way.”
“Why not?”
She peers out to the dock to make sure no one’s listening before continuing. “Because of the pact.”
“The pact?” I instantly recall Alex saying something similar.
She nods. “Those who were here the night that Penny vanished vowed never to divulge what they knew.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “I can tell you I never did find out the truth, and I don’t think I ever will. The secret will die with all of them. They’re stubborn that way, houseboaters.”
I don’t tell her that I’ve vowed to find out what happened to Penny, to drag the secret from the depths of the lake if that’s what it takes. “Well, I should be going,” I say to Esther. “It was so nice to meet you.”
She winks. “You, too, dear.”
I don’t see Henrietta when I walk out to the dock, and I hope she’s reunited with Haines—for Jim’s sake, at least. I return to my houseboat and unload the groceries. I remember what Joanie said about finding pages of a deposition from young Jimmy, and I’m eager to see if she’s sent it.
I open my e-mail and see a new message from Joanie. I click on it with anticipation. “Here you go,” she writes. “Read the last line. It’s creepy.”
I pull open the document and wait for it to load. A moment later a scanned page from a typewritten police report appears on my screen:
TESTIMONY FROM JIMMY CLYDE, SON OF MR. GENE AND MRS. NAOMI CLYDE, OF 2209 FAIRVIEW AVENUE EAST, SEATTLE.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Son, please state your name for the record.
JIMMY CLYDE: Jimmy Clyde, sir.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Please state your age.
JIMMY CLYDE: Nine years old, sir.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Now Jimmy, please share with us how you came to know Mrs. Wentworth.
JIMMY CLYDE: You mean Penny?
OFFICER CLAYTON: That’s right, son. Penny Wentworth. Don’t cry, son; there’s nothing to be afraid of.
JIMMY CLYDE: But I . . .
OFFICER CLAYTON: What is it, son?
JIMMY CLYDE: Will she come back, sir? Will she ever come back?
OFFICER CLAYTON: That’s why we’re talking to you, young man. We’re trying to make sure she does. Now tell us how you came to know Mrs. Wentworth, Jimmy.
JIMMY CLYDE: She lived near me. She was always so nice. Nicer than anyone I’ve ever met.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Did she ever talk about anyone being unkind to her, Jimmy? Anyone who wanted to hurt her?
JIMMY CLYDE: No, sir. But she was sad a lot.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Oh? How do you know that, Jimmy?
JIMMY CLYDE: Because I saw her crying. He made her cry.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Who, Jimmy? Come on, now, you can tell me.
JIMMY CLYDE: Mr. Wentworth.
OFFICER CLAYTON: And why did Mr. Wentworth make her cry?
JIMMY CLYDE: I don’t know.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Help me understand, Jimmy.
JIMMY CLYDE: Mother says he’s better than her. But that’s not true. Penny was the nicest lady in the whole wide world. Maybe he told her that. Maybe it hurt her feelings.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Now why would your mother say that about Mrs. Wentworth?
JIMMY CLYDE: I don’t know, sir.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Please, Jimmy, you have to help us here. You were one of the last people to see Mrs. Wentworth. Any clue you can give us will help our case.
JIMMY CLYDE: Will it help bring Penny home?
OFFICER CLAYTON: We hope so, son.
JIMMY CLYDE: Then I’ll tell you.
OFFICER CLAYTON: What is it?
JIMMY CLYDE: On the night she disappeared, Mr. Wentworth was angry at her. I heard him shouting, and it frightened me.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Jimmy, what did he say?
JIMMY CLYDE: I can’t remember, sir.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Please try, son.
JIMMY CLYDE: Why did he hurt her, sir? Why? She was an angel. She was an angel sent from heaven. I know it. And he had to go and hurt her.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Please, don’t cry, son. Everything’s going to be all right.
JIMMY CLYDE: But it won’t. And you know that. Because she’s never coming home.
OFFICER CLAYTON: Let the record show that Jimmy’s parents have submitted an injunction, which I’m holding in my hands now, halting any further interrogation of the child on the basis that he is mentally incapable of answering questions in a factual way.
I open my laptop and pull up my memoir in progress, but all I can think about is Penny and why any of the residents of Boat Street would have wanted to silence the truth.
Chapter 27
PENNY