Steven couldn't explain how he had gotten lost. But when Adam called him, he tried to justify it by pointing to the door. However, upon looking, he realized it was closed. Not just closed—Adam went over and tried the latch, realizing it was locked.
"I swear it opened! I saw it, I was here!" Steven spoke in desperation.
"It's fine, we'll talk about it later. I think we'd better head back to the station. We still have the Mack case, and we're going to have to give some explanations," Adam said.
When they descended the stairs, Geraldine was waiting for them at the bottom.
"Got lost, did you, boy? Honestly, it's not impossible in here. You know, big house," Geraldine said.
"Ever since I got here, I've had the feeling someone's watching me. I don't know how you manage to stay here alone," Steven commented.
Geraldine laughed.
"Oh, missy, please. I'm not alone—I have my maid who sleeps here, and a gardener I hired recently. He comes three times a week. But you're not entirely wrong." Geraldine stepped aside and went to the left wall of the entrance hall, which was covered with a curtain-like cloth. She tried to pull it down, but only with the help of Abrax and Steven did they manage to drop the fabric to the floor. It revealed a giant portrait, a realistic painting of Stacy Abrax which, though deteriorated by time and the mansion's neglect, was still absolutely piercing. The eyes looked alive, and no matter where they moved, they seemed to follow them. Adam thought it was in extremely poor taste. The image disturbed him, and he noticed the same reaction from Geraldine and Steven.
"I asked them to cover it before I came back. I couldn't walk around the house with that thing there. But I'll take it down. After I renovate the mansion, I'm going to put it up for sale. I think that's the best thing to do," Geraldine said.
In the image, Stacy looked like a large feline, ready to pounce. In her lap sat a cat, white as snow, with eyes the same color as hers.
"It's a cat, Josefine. Stacy's father, Robert, gave her the cat. It died days before she disappeared. Well, I don't know if it died, but I suppose it did, because it vanished and never came back. Then it was Stacy's turn," Geraldine explained.
Adam wanted to get out of there. The truth was, he felt suffocated being in that place and didn't quite know why. Geraldine walked them to the door. Adam looked around and saw several petunias planted in the side gardens, all purple.
"What's with those flowers? I saw people leaving arrangements of them at the gate, but here they're planted in the ground," Abrax asked.
"That? When Stacy made her first magazine cover, a producer sent some of those flowers. Petunias are like teenagers in the flower world: they symbolize youth and adolescence. When she disappeared, everyone started placing them on the gates, which is a pain since I only have one gardener," Geraldine answered.
"That's right. The florist I used to date said the same thing. And that purple ones specifically represent mystery, spirituality, and fascination," Steven added.
"That's right, smart girl!" Geraldine said.
On the way back to the station, Steven was rummaging through the box Geraldine had given Adam.
"Yeah, looks like the diva's in a hurry to close the investigation," Steven said.
"Did you see the stuff in there? There's even a book she wrote back when it happened," Adam replied.
"Yeah, but I doubt she actually wrote it. From what I heard, it was pulled from shelves. And this one in the box is even signed," Steven said.
"I saw the picture of Stacy with a convertible. But she was only fourteen. Too young to drive. How's that possible?" Adam asked.
"Rich people being rich, my friend. They could buy it, so she could have whatever she wanted. And of course, she had what every little princess back then dreamed of: a 1964 Corvette Sting Ray Convertible. And red, no less. My sister would kill for one," Steven said.
Adam thought for a moment.
"I didn't ask too many questions. Geraldine doesn't seem too stable. But I heard the car was stolen shortly after Stacy disappeared. She didn't even get to enjoy it," Abrax commented.
"I heard it was her stepfather who gave it to her. Or maybe her father had planned to buy it when she turned sixteen and ended up dying before that. Seems David Mistake gave it early," Steven said.
"Right. And isn't there anything in the files saying the car was found?" Abrax asked.
"Not that I remember. But man… that house is a damn mausoleum," Steven commented.
"You got that right," Abrax replied, not very hopeful.
When they arrived at the station, they ran into Jack.
"And where were the two princesses?" Jack asked.
"We went to speak with Geraldine, as you recommended, Sheriff," Adam replied.
Jack scratched his mustache.
"Mhm... Very good. Did she see the photos?" Jack asked.
"She did. Said cruel people are doing this. But it wasn't very relevant, since she was drunk and melancholic," Abrax said.
"Geraldine? Melancholic? I doubt that. Well, I've released Mr. Mack Del Rio," Jack said.
"What? Why?" Steven exclaimed.
"Dahlia's death came back as inconclusive. Morale called, and Father Benson is here. Dahlia wasn't one of Mack's girls, and he had a good lawyer. I want you to speak with the priest while I talk to Kowalski in my office. We're working together on this, and I need to give him my full attention," Jack said.
Sheriff Jackson left before the guys could protest.
Father Benson was an elderly man, bald on top. He was short and wrinkled, but moved quickly.
"Father Benson, the sheriff said you wanted to talk to us. But I'm surprised, because according to him, Mack Del Rio was released. Maybe what you tell us can help get him back in jail," Steven said.
"And why would you do such a foolish thing, my son?" Benson replied.
Abrax and Steven looked at each other, stunned.
"What did you say, Father?" Abrax asked.
"Mack Del Rio is an idiot, but being an idiot isn't a crime. Otherwise, he'd be in jail for life. Dahlia didn't work with Mack. She was his friend and a dancer. But he never forced her, much less sold her. If she sinned, it was by her own free will. But she found God two years ago and completely changed," Benson said.
Steven thought the priest had misspoken, but Abrax understood what he meant.
"Alright. They were friends. And Mack, being such a good friend, beat her up weeks before, right? We have a witness," Steven said.
The priest placed both hands on the table and stared at the two men.
"You wouldn't understand. But Mack didn't do that willingly. Whoever killed Dahlia has been doing this for a long time. She's not the first girl found in a church garden. Look it up. Someone is killing these poor girls, and Dahlia, unfortunately, was one of them," Benson said.
"You're saying you have a suspect, is that it?" Abrax asked.
"All I know is that Mack was worried about Dahlia. She lived next to the church and helped me whenever she could, with masses and charity work. Mack wanted her to leave at all costs. He even handed me this—" Benson pulled out a large envelope from his overcoat and placed it on the table. When Steven opened it, he saw ten thousand dollars in fresh bills.
"Mack gave this to Dahlia? But why?" Steven asked.
"So she could run away, go far, far away. At first, I thought they were involved in drugs or an ex-boyfriend. But Mack came to me and begged me to convince Dahlia to leave. He also asked for mercy, wanted to confess, but didn't. Just as he was about to start, someone called his weird phone, and he left the church immediately, terrified, like the devil himself had spoken to him," Benson said.
Abrax and Steven remained silent, but their minds were racing.
They excused themselves from the priest.
"We have to talk to Jack. This is too much for just the two of us. He'll know what to do," Abrax said.
"Oh, yeah? And what do you suggest? He's been pacing back and forth with Kowalski for days, full of secrets like two schoolgirls. We can't just barge into his office and dump all this on him," Steven said.
Meanwhile, in the office, Jackson and Kowalski were talking:
"Penelope isn't one of those beings. I think we should stop. The mayor is paralyzed by all this, but eventually, Carl will realize we're not protecting her—we're planning to execute his daughter, who might not even be his daughter anymore," Kowalski said.
"That's… I think we should go just one more night. Have Morales or someone else cover for you. We need to make sure Penelope hasn't been contaminated. I don't want Steven or Adam involved. It's too dangerous," Jackson said.
Night fell in Red Hollow, and Jackson and Kowalski went out on their "hunt." Steven and Adam didn't see the two men leave and were furious they couldn't talk to them.
Penelope still wasn't speaking, but she was drawing. In many of her drawings, she depicted a slender, dark figure. Janet didn't know Jack had been hiding in her yard with a gun—only her husband did. But Penelope saw him—and that was on the first day he was camouflaged. Penelope not only saw him, but she also heard his heartbeat, his ragged breathing, and the cold sweat running down his face.
Janet knew her daughter wasn't well. At times, the First Lady found her staring into the mirror for hours. Other times, she swore she saw Penelope in one room and seconds later, she was across the garden. But what mattered to Janet was that her daughter was alive.
Kowalski arrived at the mayor's house in good spirits, but before he could bring up the "latest tests," Janet appeared, furious.
"Dr. Kowalski, I don't know what you and Jack are up to, but I want him out of my garden now!" Janet yelled.
Kowalski went pale, wondering how the woman had found out.
"I saw him from the bedroom window. I don't want to know what you're doing, but I want both of you out of here. I've decided we're going to tell people that Penelope is alive. No more secrets!" Janet said.
"First Lady, I apologize. We really should have told you, but…" Kowalski tried to explain.
"I authorized it, Janet!" Carl came out of the office wearing a dark robe, looking like he hadn't slept in decades. His beard was unkempt, and he had a whiskey glass in hand.
"Oh, darling, why didn't you tell me? You should have told me," Janet said, going to hug him. He merely accepted the embrace.
"Well, I think your services are no longer needed, Kowalski. Go outside and get Jack. We can have some whiskey, and then you can leave. Or Janet might shoot you," Carl said with a bitter laugh.
"Alright, Mr. Mayor. I'll get Jack," Kowalski replied.
When Kowalski left, Janet turned to her husband.
"Why did you do it?" Janet asked.
"I thought our daughter was in danger," Carl replied.
"And now you think she isn't?" Janet asked.
"I think we always have been," Carl replied.
Jack was drinking whiskey with Kowalski and the mayor.
"Tomorrow I'll make an official statement. I'll say Penelope is alive and well, and that it was all an attempted crime," Carl said.
"You think that's the right thing to do?" Kowalski asked.
"You ask what I think, but you haven't discovered anything yet. I was sure the 1954 incident was resolved, but apparently not. People want to visit us, offer condolences, but my daughter is upstairs, more alive than ever. City hall is abandoned, and that can't go on," Carl concluded.
Janet brought dinner to Penelope's room.
"My love, look what I made for you: tomato basil soup and anchovy sandwiches. I know it's one of your favorite meals, so please eat. Your father is downstairs talking to the police. I thought maybe you could say something," Janet said.
Penelope was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, then turned to her mother. She didn't show any sign she would speak, so Janet insisted:
"Dear, your father is worried about your safety. I don't know what you went through, but I swear to God I'd do anything to protect you. And you know that. I love you," Janet said. She left the tray near the bed, sat next to her daughter, and ran her fingers through her hair. Janet had already noticed that her daughter's hair color had changed—it was lighter now. But a mother can overlook anything when it comes to her child, and that wouldn't be a sin.
Penelope smiled at her mother—for the first time since returning home. She then got up from bed, grabbed some drawings, and handed them to Janet, gesturing that she should take them.
"What? You want me to take this downstairs?" Janet looked at the drawings and saw that the dark, slender shadow Penelope had drawn now had shape—and a hint of a face.
"You want me to give these to the police?" Janet asked.
Morales had been on duty for days at the morgue and was exhausted. He decided he deserved some nachos and knew exactly where to get them—at a stand three blocks down from the morgue.
The clinic was almost empty of living people—just a few guards and three other assistants. He was supposed to finish Dahlia's autopsy, but he was too hungry, and to him, his actions seemed justified.
Jack and Kowalski said their goodbyes to the mayor and his wife. Janet handed the drawings to Jack, with complete trust. He glanced at them quickly but didn't think they were useful.
He dropped Kowalski at home and then headed to the station, where he found several voicemail messages from Steven and Adam.
"The guys must be pissed at me," he thought.
With only the desk lamp on, Jack lit a cigarette and poured some cognac he had saved from the other day. He should have eaten, but it didn't seem relevant. He had things to deal with. Lost in thought, he opened one of the sheets Janet had given him and, in the dim light, noticed something familiar. Something terribly familiar.
"Damn it," the sheriff thought.