Chapter 55
“WHAT KIND OF question is that?” Camilla Bronson demanded out in the suite’s common room, where Justine’s questioning unfolded on-screen.
“A brilliant one,” I retorted. “She’s getting them to separate from whatever happened to them by forcing them to engage their imaginations and look at their memories through the dog’s eyes. Stella’s like her key into their minds.”
Indeed, over the next two hours, using Stella whenever she could to preface questions, Justine brought out snippets of information that together created a loose tapestry of the Harlow family’s life on the day before their disappearance.
Stella remembered that she suffered from jet lag but felt happy to be out of Vietnam, with all those crazy scooters that almost ran her over. The bulldog recalled getting up early with Malia, who’d promised Jennifer she’d feed and water the horses. Jennifer liked to sleep in. The dog also remembered that Jin had worked on a watercolor painting instead of unpacking her room, which had annoyed her mother no end. Stella further recalled that Miguel had climbed a live oak tree he’d never climbed before, and Héctor, the caretaker and groundskeeper, got upset with him, and had to fetch a ladder to get him down.
“How long have you known Héctor?” Justine asked.
“Forever,” Malia said. “Héctor came with the ranch, Thom told me once.”
Their adoptive father had gotten up around nine the day after their arrival back at the ranch, got coffee, and disappeared to his editing room in the basement. The bulldog and all three children saw him go through the kitchen on his way there. Despite his promise that he’d spend time with the children, Thom had spent much of the day working. Jennifer rose later, around noon, complained of jet lag; but then she too went to her office and worked for much of the day.
They’d had dinner together around six. Miguel wanted to play soccer afterward, but Thom said he had too much work to do, took a plate of food, and returned to his editing room. Stella remembered this because Thom had dropped a cubed piece of chicken and she’d snagged it before he could.
“Thom told Stella she was like a shark,” Jin recalled softly.
As the group that was gathered in the common room watched the screen, the bulldog, on the bed next to Miguel, seemed to grow puzzled. Was that possible? Her eyebrows definitely rose. She clearly knew the kids were talking about her.
“When did Stella go out last?” Justine asked.
“Probably after we went to bed,” Jin said. “Jennifer always took her out last, let her go pee and poop while she went for a run.”
“Did Jennifer go for a run that night?” Justine asked.
“Jennifer never misses her run, no matter what,” Malia said flatly. “I heard the screen door slam when she went out that night. It’s below my window.”
“What time did Jennifer come back?”
“I dunno,” Malia said with a heavy shrug. “I was in my room when she left, but then my iPhone died, so I went to where we watch television, off the kitchen?”
Justine nodded. “And?”
“That’s the last thing I remember,” Malia said. “I was on the couch, watching the CW, and then like nothing.”
“How about you?” Justine asked Jin.