Page 110 of Conrad

Mama Em got up. “Coffee?”

“Always.”

She headed to the coffee station. “I remember the story. I had my own kids at the time, and your mother’s plea on television, for the kidnapper to give you back, really touched me. I prayed for you. And then when your nanny and her boyfriend were killed during the ransom handoff, I was so angry. We’d never know why they did it.”

“For the money.”

“Right. But to have the trust of a family, only to betray it . . . Wicked.”

Penelope shrugged. “That’s why my dad has multiple generations of the same family working for us. My bodyguard, Franco, is the son of my father’s bodyguard, now retired. And our housekeeper stayed with us until she passed away. My sister was going to marry her son. But he was . . . killed.” She didn’t know why she kept the murder out of her story, but maybe she simply couldn’t face how many bodies were dropping around her.

You, Penelope Pepper, are the connection.

No.She didn’t even know Derek Swindle. Had never met him. And had only met Holden by phone, never in person, so there went that theory. Still, she didn’t have to meet someone to be connected to their death . . .

“I know my mother was terribly hurt by Carmen’s betrayal.”

Mama Em put the mug of coffee in front of her. Pulled over a condiment tray. “Carmen?”

“My nanny.” Penny doctored the coffee. “She started as a foreign exchange student and then ended up staying after my father sponsored her. She was with us for seven years before she . . . well, before she kidnapped me.”

“Oh, that’s awful.”

“It might have been worse if I hadn’t gotten away and then hidden until my parents got home, with the help of the housekeeper’s boy, Edward. And then my father’s bodyguard, Vincent, came to get me. I’ll never forget seeing the light pour in as the dumbwaiter door cracked open, and then there was Mr. Vincent, holding his arms open for me. I’d never felt so safe. He carried me upstairs to my mom, and she just held me and cried. I’ll never forget that. She was always so put together, so . . .” She sighed. “Anyway, I hated that I put them through that.”

Silence, and Mama Em frowned at her. “Youput them through that?”

She nodded. “I heard my parents fighting maybe a few days later. My mother sounded furious. She was yelling at my dad—I could hear them through the bedroom door. She said that he’d let it get too far, that I could have gotten killed.”

She took a sip of coffee.Perfect. “I think it was because he refused to pay the ransom.”

“He refused?”

“That’s what Edward overheard from the nanny and her accomplice, Nicolai, one of the guys on the security team. But I never had the courage to ask my dad.”

“Oh, honey.”

“I don’t know. Edward could have misheard. I did hear my dad tell my mom that if I hadn’t run away and hid, they would have found me and it would have all been over earlier, so my guess is that maybe there are things I don’t know.” She took a deep breath. “It did make me aware of the danger of having money. And how I needed to be careful.”

“That’s a hard way to live your life. Always fearing someone is going to betray you.”

Penelope looked away.

“And no amount of trying to understand the darkness that lurks in the human heart will make you feel safe.”

She met Mama Em’s gaze.

“I’ll bet you were terrified.”

She nodded.

“But you don’t look terrified now. In fact, I remember you at the wedding, after Kyle hurt you, and I kept thinking,She’s one brave woman.” Mama Em covered Penelope’s hand. “And you are, Penelope. And smart, and determined to find justice. But the truth is that finding answers isn’t going to give you peace. You think it will, but it won’t erase what has been done to you. And it won’t erase the crimes committed.

“The only thing that brings peace is knowing that, whatever happens, you are loved. You are carried. Worry—or even the relentless pursuit of justice—is just a form of control. You want to figure it all out, make sure none of this happens again. But really what you are saying is, ‘God, I think your intent is to leave me unprotected and vulnerable, so I need to make sure that doesn’t happen.’”

Penelope stared at her coffee. “My mother is a woman of faith. And we went to the local Episcopal church all my life, but . . . yeah. I’m not sure where God was when I was kidnapped and locked in the basement cellar.”

“Right there with you.”

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