“Tell me honestly you’re not looking at Lynne.”
“You’re Lynne’s mother. Have you ever thought there was something to be concerned about?”
“No. Until today, it has never crossed my mind.”
“If Jenna and Lynne had some kind of ‘collision’ that night, I doubt Lynne would have remained a Maggie fan, loving one thing that happened that night while desperately trying to block out another experience. That doesn’t seem likely or even possible for Lynne—fixating on one, ignoring the other.”
Nancy’s smile held relief. “No. It doesn’t sound like Lynne.”
“Then simply help me rule her out. The night of Maggie’s concert—do you remember what time Lynne got home?”
“Yes, because it wasn’t till dawn. She was floating, that one. She first came home with her autographed souvenirs around eleven-thirty, then took off to write her music. She came home for breakfast at seven with this thick set of song lyrics, sang several as I scrambled the eggs. She was happy, bubbling really. Whatever Maggie described as her writing process, Lynne latched on to it like a duck to water.
“It’s not unusual, that schedule,” Nancy went on to explain. “Lynne doesn’t want to head straight to bed after a concert, and I can’t blame her. It’s the end of a workday for her. She’s been around a thousand people, and music is her thing. She needs a few hours before she can settle down to sleep.
“So she’ll join others from the Music Hall for the midnight movie at the 4-Plex and then head to the restaurant next door and read until dawn. Or she’ll go over to a girlfriend’s, watch TV or DVDs, stretch out on their couch. She has a deal with me—she settles where she’s going to be by midnight, and once we both carried phones, she’d text where she was. The college years, she’d join friends at the campus union and take the early morning hours to study. If she’s out at night, she’s always home for our breakfast at seven.”
Evie opened her notebook and added some shorthand comments for David later.
Nancy smiled. “I know sometimes she would go join her boyfriend, Jim. He’d be closing the coffee shop at midnight, and they would hang out for a couple of hours playing music. He would walk her later to the destination of her choice. He was good to her. They shared similar circumstances—working evenings, each living at home, not wanting to go straight from the job to bed, but not wanting to disturb the folks. His dad owns the music store over on Tailor Street and the coffee shop beside it where they’ve got a small stage for live music. Lynne still sings there at least once a week, trying out her songs. She would haunt that music store as a child, learned what she knows about keyboards and guitars there, always ready to learn something more.
“I liked Jim the best of her boyfriends—Jim Ulin—he was good for Lynne during those college years. After him Lynne was seeing Brad Nevery, a nice boy, just a bit rough in his language. He works as a mechanic over at Bushnell Autos. She’s between boyfriends now—by her choice, I think. Jim comes by occasionally to compliment a song she wrote, ask if she’s sung it for me yet. He’s got a good heart, that boy, didn’t go the college route but made himself something without it.
“Lynne’s father and I, we’re lights out at midnight, and it’s hard in this old house not to hear someone moving about, even when she’d be doing her best to be quiet. She deserves to have some space—her music, her friends. She’d get an apartment of her own, but stays because she knows her father needs the certainty of someone being here, and I still work morning hours. If Lynne is a bit quick to fixate, she comes by it from her father. He hears sounds and thinks someone’s breaking in, can get himself in a panic. But when family is here, he’s fine. We make it work. She deserves a life of her own, and I give her what space I can.”
“I don’t see someone stressed about her life and wanting out of it, Nancy,” Evie commented. “She’s happy. That’s not a bad place to be when you’re her age.” Evie glanced at her notes. “Jim was her boyfriend throughout college?”
“More like friends from grade school on, really. I hoped it would turn serious one day. Jim’s managing both the music store and the coffee shop now, and his dad’s mostly retired.”
Evie heard David and Lynne, knew they would be coming down momentarily. “You’ve got a good daughter, Nancy, one who strikes me as happy with her life. I’ll figure out what happened to Jenna. It may shock a few people at first, whatever the truth is I eventually find. But it’s probably going to be a case where, on second thought, it’s not difficult to see. If there’s someone in the neighborhood who’s a person you have wondered about, would you call me?” Evie offered her card. “I promise, I eliminate quickly ninety-nine percent of the names that go on my list, yet every one of them takes me another step toward the truth.”