‘Austen Penn, how the devil are you?’ she asked with genuine warmth.
‘I’m very well, Gloria. How’s yourself?’
‘I’m fine. And Jasper?’
Penn cringed at the woman’s concern.
Gloria Lincoln was the social worker who had been assigned to them before his mother had died. Both he and Jasper had warmed to the woman’s compassion and humour. Once her assessment had been completed, she had told them to call her any time, but Penn was sure this wasn’t what she’d meant.
He took a deep breath. ‘Jasper’s well, thank you. That’s not why I’m calling.’
She hesitated before speaking. ‘Okay, go on.’
‘I’ve got this family. I have concerns.’
‘Austen, you know?—’
‘I know, I know,’ he said, already aware of what she was going to say. There was a process for police officers to follow if child services needed to be involved, and he felt terrible putting her in this position, but he trusted her judgement implicitly. ‘But can I just tell you about them and see what you think?’ he asked, knowing he was trying to throw the grenade at her before running away.
‘I shouldn’t…’
‘I know, and I don’t think the children involved are in imminent danger, like this very minute. But you know that feeling of being worried that if you do nothing at all, you’re going to regret it right up until you see a headline on the news. I don’t want this family on my conscience.’
‘None of us want any families on our conscience,’ she said sadly. ‘Look, I can’t launch any kind of investigation after an informal phone call, especially when there’s no immediate risk to a child or children. What I will do is see if the family are known to us and take it from there.’
Penn felt instant relief that the woman was even prepared to do that. Surely the department would have had dealings with the family before.
‘The couple are Mr and Mrs Chance, and they live at?—’
‘Wait one second. Do you mean Warren and Lyra Chance from the Hollytree Estate?’
‘Are they that well known to you?’ he asked, surprised that she knew who he was talking about before he’d even finished the sentence.
‘I’ve literally just got off a call with Warren Chance.’
‘They rang you?’ he asked, confused.
‘They did. They wanted to make a complaint.’
‘About what?’
‘They claim that their niece is being sexually abused.’
Thirty-One
By the time Kim had a black coffee in front of her, she was absolutely dying to know the source of the feud between the Stouts and the Hubbards. And here was the only person prepared to tell her. Despite himself, Bryant looked equally invested.
Donna Stout took a deep breath. ‘It’s a curse.’
Kim looked at Bryant before responding. It wasn’t even in the top hundred of what she’d expected to hear. ‘You are kidding?’ she asked.
Donna shook her head. ‘I can understand your scepticism, especially in these modern times, but you asked a question and I’m giving you the answer. Do you want to know?’
Kim could have understood if it had been a land dispute that had never been settled or that the animosity started when someone’s cat got run over… but this? How was that even possible? Kim nodded. Oh yes, she wanted to hear more, all right. Right before she got everyone around a table and banged their heads together.
‘The Hubbard family cast the curse on the Stout family in 1910.’
‘For what?’ Kim asked, suspending disbelief for a minute. She didn’t believe in curses, but she did believe in hysteria being passed down through generations. She wanted to know why this particular nonsense had endured through the ages.
