"Dori Petracelli."
"Yes, that's right. She went missing a few weeks after you left. Nearly killed your father. For all his planning, Russell never saw that coming. What a terrible burden to bear. After that, I can imagine why he never told you a thing. What kind of father wants his daughter to discover he saved her life by sacrificing her best friend? Such terrible, terrible choices, for such terrible, terrible days."
"Mr. Schuepp—" Annabelle started.
"Mr. Schuepp," Bobby interrupted, fumbling with his pen now, frantic to get it all written down.
The wizened old man smiled. "Guess I'm not going to make my conference," he said. He picked up the scotch, splashed it in his glass, and gulped it down.
And started his story from the beginning.
YOUR FATHER—ROGER Grayson was how he was known back then—lost his parents when he was twelve. It's not something he liked to talk about. I never heard the details from him, only from Greg, who picked up the tale from scuttlebutt around the department. It was a domestic violence case, I'm afraid. Russell, well, Roger, I guess—"
"Russell, call him Russell," Annabelle spoke up. "That's how I think of him." Her lips twisted, she seemed to be trying out the words. "Roger Grayson. Roger, please don't go…." She frowned, grimaced, and stated more emphatically, "Russell."
"Russell it is. So Russell's mother tried to leave Russell's father. The father didn't take the news so well, returning to the house one night with a gun. He shot and killed them both. Russell was in the house that night. His younger brother, too."
"Brother?" Annabelle exclaimed, bewildered.
Bobby's pen paused over his notebook. "Two male Graysons?" He pictured the sketch again, the resemblance to the description they had of Annabelle's father, and suddenly everything started to make sense.
Schuepp nodded. "Brother. You have an uncle, my dear, though I'm sure you've never heard of him."
"No, I haven't."
"It's what your father wanted. For good reason. After the shooting, Russell and his brother—Tommy—were fortunate to be admitted into the Milton Hershey School for disadvantaged children. Even back then, both boys showed great academic promise, and the Hershey boarding-school program was an excellent fit. Academic rigor in a lovely, pastoral setting.
"Your father did exceptionally well. Tommy, seven years your father's junior, did not. From the beginning, there were signs of mental health issues. Rage/impulse control problems. ADHD. Reactive attachment disorder. I have an interest in the field; been working to develop a statistical model to assist evaluators examining young children. But that's neither here nor there."
Schuepp waved away his own conversational tangent with his hand, then continued more briskly. "Your father graduated early and was accepted at Penn. He was an incredibly gifted student, and Gregory took a shine to him. Under his guidance, Russell submatriculated into the master's program and began to think seriously about pursuing his Ph.D. in mathematics. Along the way, he fell in love with a beautiful nursing student and halfway through his doctorate program, Russell married your mother.
"It was about this time that Tommy quit the Hershey school. With no other family, Tommy sought out your father. And not knowing what else to do, your father took him in. Not an ideal situation for a newly married man juggling a young wife and demanding studies, but these are the things families do.
"Tommy took a job as a dishwasher in a local restaurant. He worked as a bouncer at night and engaged in general mayhem during the day Russell bailed him out of jail three times, for minor infractions involving brawling, drugs, alcohol. It was always the other guy's fault, according to Tommy. The other guy started it.
"Finally, your mother sat Russell down one night and told him that she was scared. Twice she'd caught Tommy peeking into the bedroom when she was changing. And once when she was in the shower, she was pretty sure he'd entered the bathroom. When she called out his name, he'd panicked and run.
"That was enough for your father. He'd pulled himself up by his own bootstraps; Tommy could do the same. So Russell kicked out his younger brother. Just in time, apparently, because a few weeks later, your mother discovered she was pregnant.
"Tommy, unfortunately, never really went away. He'd arrive unannounced at odd hours. Sometimes Russell was there. Often he wasn't. Your mother, Leslie—Lucy, as she was known back then—"