Page 35 of Murder in the Lighthouse

“I have a right to know the truth about my biological mother.”

“Of course you do. But who’s running the company until all this is settled?”

“That’s up to the board of directors. I should call my lawyer because I’m sure Delia will call hers. Or better still, I’ll sit back and wait for my severance package to show up.”

“First of all, Delia will not want this information leaking out to anyone else. You can bet she won’t take it to the next level. If she won’t talk to you about it, she won’t use it to replace you at the helm.”

“That’s probably true,” Brogan decided. “She’s forgotten that it’s not up to her to replace me. It’s a rather complicated process. That woman can be so infuriating.”

Lucien watched her pace back and forth, her frustration evident. He could see the turmoil in her eyes, the questions weighing on her mind. She had always been a fighter and faced challenges head-on, but this was different. Finding out her roots was about as personal as it got.

As Brogan's footsteps echoed through the house, Lucien’s phone buzzed with a new text message from Birk. He quickly glanced at the screen to see the suggested meeting place for their upcoming rendezvous with Trish Vosberg.

Jade suggests meeting at The Muse on 5th Street tomorrow afternoon after the noon rush is over.It’s an old-school coffee shop where artists, musicians, and local theater people hang out. Contact Trish and dangle the idea. I’ll send you all the numbers I found for her online.

Lucien felt anticipation surging through his veins at the thought of coming face-to-face with Trish, knowing their meeting might bring them a step closer to finding a killer. But healso couldn’t shake off the turmoil brewing between Brogan and Delia. “What do you want to do now?”

“What can I do if no one is willing to talk to me?”

“We haven’t tried grilling Indigo to get their take. Or Jack.”

“I’m not sure they’d have any helpful information. None of them ever acted like they knew Rachel that well other than to say she was beautiful. Let’s face it. I may never know the truth.”

“It doesn’t hurt to get the band together in one place and ask them directly.” He held up his phone so she could read the text message. “That’s what Birk and Jade suggest we do with Trish Vosberg.”

“Who’s Trish Vosberg?”

“Birk thinks she’s Truthseeker22. She’s Jill Vosberg’s sister. And she’s a cop.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Brogan said. But as quickly as she considered the case, she morphed back to her own problems. “I’ll send Jack an email. It’s not a bad idea—to go directly to the source—and ask what they know, what they saw. In our case, who was Rory sleeping with during that Swedish leg of the tour when they were doing multiple concert dates in the major cities—Stockholm, Malmo, Gothenburg, and Uppsala? I researched it. They did sixteen concerts overall. I should send out emails to Nigel and Gordon, too.”

“I’ll ask Dad what he remembers. But don’t get your hopes up. It was almost thirty years ago. I wouldn’t count on any of them remembering anything too specific.”

“But it’s worth a try. Any tidbit is better than what we have now. Like reaching out to Jill’s sister is a first step, so is this.”

“But a call out of the blue from a total stranger asking about her sister’s murder?” Lucien queried. “I’d have my doubts and suspicions. I’m sure her cop instincts will kick in.”

“Think of it this way. What do we have to lose?” Brogan suggested. “It’s another line of inquiry.”

Taking a deep breath, Lucien dialed Trish’s cell phone number. He got her voicemail and left a detailed message about who he was and why he’d called. He did the same thing with the other two numbers at work and home, dangling a cryptic reason to call back.

“There. It’s up to her to return the calls or not. Now it’s time to reach out to Dad.”

While Brogan drafted the emails to Jack, Nigel, and Gordon, urging them to recall any details from the weeks of that tour, he punched in his father’s number. He knew it was a long shot, but Brogan seemed to be counting on at least one of them remembering something to fill the gap she needed.

Graeme was his grumpy self even after explaining the reason for the call. “Why are you always asking questions about the past? Why can’t you ever leave it alone? You and Brogan had exceptional lives. Why can’t you be happy with that?”

“That’s one way to look at it. But you knew your real mother and father, right? What if you hadn’t known who they were?”

“That’s the trouble with this DNA business. You kids won’t leave well enough alone. If you think I paid attention to every woman Rory slept with during our tour dates, you don’t know your old man very well. I had my own thing going on.”

“If it means anything, we’re asking Nigel and Gordon the same questions. Even Jack.”

“Jack? I’m not sure he came on board until later. By then, we were back in the States to work on more songs, getting ready for another release. You’re talking about our first European tour to promote our second album that went platinum.”

“That’s a pretty good memory.”

Graeme released a long sigh in frustration. “Fine. Let me think about it, and I’ll get back to you. Unless you’re determined to get a half-assed answer this minute.”

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