Gretchen added, “Someone wedged her between two rocks. Whoever did it meant for her to drown.”
Lydia formed a fist with her right hand and pressed it into her mouth. Her eyes closed. Dr. Feist zippered the bag back up and put a hand on Lydia’s elbow, turning her away from Eden’s body.
“Would you like to sit down, Mrs. Norris?” Josie asked.
She shook her head but kept her eyes closed a moment longer, composing herself. When she opened them again, Gretchen asked, “When is the last time you saw or spoke to Amber?”
“It’s been years,” said Lydia. “I divorced her father when the kids were teenagers. The kids didn’t take it well, wanted nothing to do with me after that. I tried to keep tabs on them—that’s how I knew that Amber was here in Denton—but we didn’t talk often.”
“You’re saying you haven’t spoken to or had any contact with Amber in years?” Josie said.
Lydia gave her head a quick shake. “Yes. No. I mean, I’m sure I talked to her sometime in the last… I don’t know. Maybe it was when she moved here? I really can’t recall. Like I said, she wasn’t happy with me or her father. None of them were.”
“None of them,” said Gretchen. “You mean Amber, Eden, and your son?”
“Gabriel, yes. I haven’t seen or spoken with him in almost six years. Ever since he joined that church. You know the one? Thatcher something? He’s on television all the time.”
“Thatcher Toland?” asked Josie. “He’s building a megachurch nearby.”
Lydia snapped her fingers. “Yes, the Rectify Church. Odd name, don’t you think? But I guess if you start your own nondenominational church, you get to call it whatever you want. Anyway, once Gabriel joined Rectify, he stopped speaking to me altogether.”
Josie said, “Does Gabriel have something he needs to rectify? Is that why he joined?”
Lydia gave a tittering laugh. Her eyes looked everywhere but at Josie. “No, no,” she said. “I don’t think so. Unless there was something after I left.”
“What about Eden?” asked Josie. “When is the last time you were in contact with her?”
Lydia glanced over her shoulder to where Eden’s body rested. Her tone was sad, wistful, even. “I usually talk with her on the phone a couple of times a year. She won’t see me. I haven’t seen her in person for almost ten years, but still, she was the most forgiving of all my children. I hadn’t spoken with her since the summer, though. She was my July baby. How did Eden…? I don’t understand what’s happened. She lives in Philadelphia. Why would she be here?”
“To see Amber?” Gretchen suggested.
Lydia shook her head. “No, no. Amber wanted nothing to do with any of us. This makes no sense.”
Gretchen and Josie looked at one another, silent communication flooding between them. Finally, Gretchen said, “Mrs. Norris, this is a very delicate matter, and I know this is a terrible time for you, but it’s been brought to our attention that Amber had a large burn scar on her back.”
Lydia nodded. “She did.”
Josie picked up the questioning. “A friend of hers told us that although she usually claims that she got it by accident, in fact, someone gave her the scar. On purpose. Do you know anything about this?”
Tears glistened in Lydia’s eyes. Again, her head shook slowly from side to side. “The truth?”
Josie and Gretchen nodded.
“I think my sister-in-law did that to her, but I could never prove it.”
“Your sister-in-law,” said Josie. “Amber’s aunt?”
“Yes. Nadine. My ex-husband Hugo’s parents died when he was a child. There was only Nadine. She was twelve years older than him, and their dynamic was much more of a parent–child type of thing than a sister–brother. Nadine had to have absolute control over everything. Every aspect of our lives. As you can imagine, that didn’t sit well with me, especially where it concerned my children. There were a few times that I left Hugo before things fell apart once and for all, and he would usually leave the kids at Nadine’s house rather than parent them himself.” Frustration shook her voice. Her lower lip trembled and one of her hands squeezed into a fist. “God forbid he act like a father. Anyway, one of those times that we were separated, the children were there at Nadine’s, and the next thing I know I’m getting a call from Towanda Hospital saying that Amber’s been in an accident.”
“Towanda,” said Josie. “That’s north, near the state line.”
“Yes, just south of New York State. Nadine has quite a large house in Sullivan County. The closest hospital was Towanda. That’s where they took Amber. I went to see her—to collect all the children—and she was in terrible shape. She said they were having a campfire and she fell backward into it. I never believed her, but I couldn’t get her to tell me the truth. She was too afraid of Nadine. We all were.”
Gretchen said, “Why? You were a grown woman. Their mother. Why would you be afraid of Nadine?”
Lydia shuddered. “She would find ways to make our lives a living hell. Insidious, maddening ways. There was no getting away from her. Hugo felt a certain loyalty to her that he never extended to me or our children. That was ultimately one of the main reasons I left. He refused to distance us from her.”
Josie said, “Amber had a diary that she kept as a teenager. She told her best friend that Nadine tore most of the pages out. Did you know about that?”
Lydia’s brow knit together. “No, I didn’t. But it doesn’t surprise me. It sounds like something Nadine would do.”
Josie took out her phone and pulled up the photo of the diary page with the list of numbers. She showed it to Lydia. “Do you know what these numbers mean? Amber wrote them in her diary.”
Lydia took the phone from Josie, studying them for a long moment. “I have no idea,” she said. “What are they? Bank account numbers?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” said Gretchen. “You have no idea what they could be from or what they mean?”
She handed the phone back to Josie, sadness lining her face. “No. I wish I did. Do you think they have something to do with what happened to Eden or where Amber went?”
“We’re not sure at this point,” said Josie. “When is the last time you saw Nadine?”
“Probably fifteen years ago. Once I left Hugo—for the final time—I didn’t look back.”
“Your children didn’t want to come with you?” asked Gretchen.
Lydia’s thumbs rubbed against the bands of her rings on the insides of her palms. The rings moved slightly on her fingers, casting a thousand tiny sparkles across the ceiling. “Gabriel was grown by that time. The girls were both nearly out of high school. We had moved a lot when they were growing up. I think they just didn’t want to be upended with only one or two years of school left. Besides, they blamed me for all of it.”
“All of what?” said Josie.
Lydia shrugged. “All of life, I guess. Every bad thing that happened in their childhoods, and now… God, this is just awful.”