Checking his location on her phone, she saw that he was at his friend Isaac’s house, just like he’d said he’d be. Isaac’s mom was trustworthy.
Everything was fine. Dylan wasn’t vaping marijuana ... probably.
The Brooksides’ home remained motionless, concealing its secrets.
She killed time browsing wistfully through her Princeton album. Nassau Hall, once George Washington’s capitol of the fledgling United States, with its bell tower and stoic façade. Blair Hall, with its castlelike turrets. Alexander Hall, with its Tiffany stained-glass windows.
When she’d looked through all her photos and scoured the Internet for a few more to add to her collection, she checked Beckett Memorial’s website to see if she could find a picture of Sebastian there.
She couldn’t.
Since she’d seen him at his hospital almost a month ago, she’d often mulled over his appearance—giving her memories of him color and three-dimensional depth. Again and again, she’d envisioned him in his T-shirt, scrubs, Adidas.
She’d thought of Levi and Isabella, too. For those babies and their families, the specter of death wasn’t some abstract, distant thing. She’d felt just how close it was when she’d visited them. Levi and Isabella were small and helpless. Death, big and dangerous.
Sighing, she returned her focus to the house just as a shiny black BMW sedan finished backing out of the driveway. The car turned in her direction, and she dropped low in her seat with a gasp.
What!A car? Who was inside it?
Despite the glaze of sun and shadow against their windshield, she glimpsed two passengers in the front seat before the vehicle slipped past.
She executed a three-point turn as quickly as possible.
The BMW turned left at the end of the street.
Adrenaline jerked through her system. She was tailing a car like in the movies!
They wound through the neighborhood onto increasingly larger streets, until ten minutes later, the BMW pulled into a church parking lot.
She’d hypothesized that they’d leave their house for church this morning, and they had. Little pleased her more than forming a hypothesis based on logic, then watching that hypothesis proven true.
She parked two rows away from them in the lot, which gave her a clear view of the woman and man who exited the car. Based on the Facebook cover photo Leah had so carefully studied, the woman was definitely Trina Brookside. The man, very likely Jonathan Brookside, was of medium height and distinguished. Trina wore a pink cardigan over a classy blouse and skirt. Jonathan wore a black suit.
Leah watched them walk inside.
Rapidly, she finger-combed her hair and applied lipstick, then merged into the stream of people heading toward the service. Anticipating that this morning might include a church service, she’d chosen a tailored white shirt, bright blue blazer, cigarette pants.
A greeter handed her a bulletin, and she eased into a formal sanctuary. An orchestra lined the front. White-painted square columns rose to the soaring ceiling on either side of the stage.
She searched the congregants for a pink sweater in combination with a black suit. Where had they gone? She panned back and forth across the milling people, searching—
There. She made her way toward them and slid into the pew directly behind theirs. She sat slightly to the side of their position, so that when she looked toward the pulpit, a direction that would seem natural to those around her, the two of them fell within her line of sight.
The building buzzed with the sound of musicians tuning their instruments, talking, background worship music.
Leah wasthrillingly closeto Trina and Jonathan.
Trina had styled her blond hair the way she had in her Facebook photo, into a long, flattering bob.
For a man of fifty-seven, Jonathan had a full head of blond-gray hair, expertly trimmed. His suit oozed quality. She caught a hint of his luxurious aftershave.
Jonathan and Trina alternated between periods of quiet and periods of chatting in undertones. They’d been married a long time, and while she didn’t see evidence of fawning adoration, she did see evidence of rapport, companionship, respect. Her parents’ relationship had been tempestuous and transitory. The couple before her seemed to represent the opposite.
The service opened with worship music, and the congregation stood to sing. Near the end of the first song, Trina looked to the side, smiled, and lifted her hand in a gesture of greeting.
Leah followed the direction of her gaze—
A pang vibrated through her, because she recognized Sophie approaching. Closely behind Sophie, Sophie’s groom. And then a third person.... A young woman with long blond hair who resembled Trina strongly.
