“The daughter of Ethan Chapman. He lived next door to my family’s summer bungalow when I was a kid. He was my age. His older brother, Ned, died recently and Ethan’s daughter—her name is Abby—found this letter in his belongings. It was addressed to the police.”
I handed the letter to her and watched lines of worry form between her eyebrows as she read it.
“Oh,
“I know.” It came out as a whisper.
“Ned was Isabel’s boyfriend, wasn’t he?” She used Isabel’s name more easily than anyone else in the family, perhaps because she had never known her. To Shannon, Isabel was the aunt who had died long before she was born. The one we rarely mentioned, even though Shannon looked more like her with every year. The thick dark hair and double rows of black eyelashes, the almond-shaped eyes and deep dimples. Shannon was now seventeen, the same age Isabel had been when she died. She knew what had happened the summer I was twelve and she understood that those events were the reason I held on to her so tightly: I would never let her run wild as Isabel had. Shannon knew it all, but that didn’t stop her from resenting my attempts to keep her safe.
“Yes,” I said. “Isabel’s boyfriend.”
“Your hands are shaking.”
I looked down at my hands where they rested in my lap and saw that she was right.
“What are you supposed to do with this?” She handed the letter back to me.
“I’m going to talk to Ethan about taking it to the police. And if he won’t take it, I’ll do it myself.”
She let out a long breath. “I suppose you have to,” she said. “Have you talked to Lucy about it?”
“Not yet,” I said, although I’d been thinking of calling my sister when Shannon had arrived. I needed to talk to someone who understood how I felt.
Shannon stood up. “Well,” she said, a bit awkwardly, “I have to get back to the store. I just wanted to tell you…you know, about moving to Dad’s. Sorry that my timing sucked, and that it turned into this big, like—” she waved her hands through the air “—this altercation or whatever.”
I nodded. “When will you go?”
“In a couple of days. Okay?” She was longing for my blessing.
“Okay.” What else could I say?
She handed me the empty Coke can. “Would you mind sticking that in recycling, please?” she asked.
I took the can and held it on my lap next to the letter. “Have fun at work,” I said.
“Thanks.” She bounced down the porch steps with an ease known only to the young.
“Shannon?” I called as she walked down our sidewalk.
“What?” She didn’t bother to turn around.
“If you talk to Nana, don’t say anything about this to her.” It was an unwritten rule in my family never to talk to my mother about the summer of ’62.
“I won’t,” she said, lifting her arm in a wave.
I stood up then, letter and Coke can in my hands, and walked into the house to call my sister.
CHAPTER 3
My cell phone rang as I got out of my car in the McDonald’s parking lot in Garwood. Seeing on the caller ID display that it was Julie, I answered it. “Hi, sis,” had barely left my lips when she launched into the conversation she’d had with Ethan Chapman’s daughter. I leaned against the car, listening, trying unsuccessfully to conjure up a cohesive image of Ethan and Ned Chapman. Ned barely existed in my memory, and Ethan was twelve and blurry around the edges. I didn’t like his daughter’s reason for showing up on Julie’s doorstep one bit.
“You know what, Julie?” I said when she’d told me everything.
“What?”
“I grant you, the whole thing is unsettling,” I said, “But I think Ethan Chapman’s daughter should solve the mystery on her own. Leave you out of it.You don’t need this.”
“That’s what Shannon said.”
“I have a very smart niece,” I said.
Julie didn’t respond.
“What are you thinking?” I reached into my shoulder bag for my sunglasses and slipped them on. Who knew how long I’d be standing out here talking with her? I couldn’t walk into McDonald’s while having this conversation: Our mother was in there.
“If George Lewis didn’t do it,” Julie said, “I can’t just sit back and let the world think he did.”
“Yes, you can,” I said, although my zeal for justice was normally, if anything, stronger than Julie’s. “Let Ethan’s daughter take the letter to the police, then. As long as she does it, I don’t see why you have to be involved at all.” I was surprised at how upset I felt. My creative, sensitive sister was already clinging to the edge with Shannon— Isabel’s double—getting ready to go away to college. I didn’t want anything to add to her stress and I was annoyed with Abby Chapman for dragging her into something she really had no need to be part of.
“That’s just it,” Julie said. “I don’t think she’ll do anything about it without his okay. I have to talk to him. I’m in a bind.”
I could tell she’d already made up her mind. “Okay,” I relented. “If you have to, you have to.”
A group of kids walked past me, their laughter loud in my ear.
