Page 30 of When You're Forgotten

Amelia rubbed her own arms as though warding off a sudden chill.“In the meantime, we can check the corridor near the body, make sure no one else stumbles in.The less contamination, the better for forensics.”

Finn nodded.“Right.Let’s go back.And… be cautious.I can’t shake the feeling that the masked figure might still be around.”

They turned on their heels, moving along the corridor that led to Catherine’s final resting place.The manor’s lamps glowed weakly now that night was properly closing in.Every corner felt ominous, every tapestry looking as though it harbored secrets.A hush blanketed the house, as if it too grieved the loss of another Penrose.Time would only tell if more would join them in the family cemetery.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Finn glanced out the broad kitchen window, observing the dark silhouette of police cars parked near the edge of Brynmor Hall's gravel drive.Their headlights were off, and the interior lights had been extinguished.It was late—well past the usual hour for household bustle.If not for the glow of lights in the kitchen, the estate might have seemed deserted.But inside, tension gripped everyone in the aftermath of Catherine Penrose's death.

He turned back to the large farm-style table at the kitchen’s center, where Marianne, Richard, and Jenna sat in subdued silence.Donald the cook bustled at the stove, heating milk and whisking cocoa powder.Despite the dire atmosphere, the aroma of rich chocolate rolled through the air, offering a small comfort in an otherwise grim evening.

Amelia sat beside Finn, pen and notebook at the ready on the tabletop.She studied the trio with concern.“I know it’s a horrible time,” she said softly, “but we need to ask some questions about Catherine.Is that all right?”

Richard sat hunched forward, face buried in his hands.His shoulders trembled, betraying quiet sobs.Jenna rested a hand on his back in a gesture of solace, though her own eyes were red-rimmed.Marianne perched across from them, wringing her hands in her lap, eyes distant and haunted.

Donald turned, ladle in hand, and cast a glance at Finn.“Would hot chocolate help them relax, do you think?”

Finn managed a wan smile.“It couldn’t hurt.Thank you for making it.”He found it surreal that only hours before, they had discovered Catherine’s body, and now they sat like a group of weary travelers around a kitchen table at midnight.The presence of the cocoa’s homey scent felt jarringly at odds with the tragedy that had befallen the household.

“Where is Judd?”Richard asked.

“He’s been sick with a migraine,” Marianne answered.“I just checked on him and he’s out like a light with the painkillers he’s on.He’ll wake up in the morning to all… To all this.”

Richard sniffled, wiping his nose on a handkerchief.He spoke in a raw, low voice, “I—I can’t believe she’s gone.My sister… it feels unreal.”Jenna leaned her head against his shoulder, offering silent support.

Amelia’s gaze softened.“We’re very sorry for your loss, Richard.Catherine seemed— from what little we saw—kind, thoughtful.It’s devastating to lose someone so suddenly.”

Marianne lowered her gaze.“She was a good friend.We might have had disagreements, but never over anything that should end like…like this.”Her eyes dampened, but she held herself resolutely, likely for the children’s sake—though they were now sleeping (or attempting to) in another room.“She was always the voice of reason in this family, more than you’d expect from someone with so many burdens.”

Finn gently cleared his throat, leaning forward in the chair.“We need a timeline of the evening, if you can manage it, Richard.Where were you when… things happened?”

Richard sat back slightly, the question seeming to jolt him from his grief.“I was in my bedroom reading an old novel, The Count of Monte Cristo.I—I do that sometimes when I can’t sleep.I must have been there from about nine o’clock onward.Jenna had gone to bed earlier, or so I thought.I only found out about Catherine when people started shouting.”His voice trembled, and he looked at Jenna.“I… I still can’t believe we’re talking about her in the past tense.”

Jenna squeezed his arm gently, eyes glistening.“Shh.We’ll get through this, Richard.”

Amelia scribbled notes.“When did you last see Catherine alive?”

He frowned, brow creasing in thought.“We had a meal together—just a light supper—in the upper sitting room around seven.Then we parted ways.She said she had something to do, some personal matter, but didn’t elaborate.I went to my room after that.”A wave of anguish crossed his face.“I never realized that would be the last time I… spoke to her.”

Finn’s gaze flicked to Jenna.“And you, Mrs.Penrose?You discovered Catherine’s body, correct?”

Jenna nodded, tears threatening again.“Yes.She seemed… upset at dinner.Catherine and Richard had words, and I—I couldn’t sleep thinking about it.So I got up and decided to see if she was all right.”She gave Richard a sideways look, but he simply bowed his head in silent regret.“When I reached her door, it was slightly ajar.She didn’t answer when I knocked, so I stepped in… and that’s when—when I saw her under that curtain.”

Her voice trembled, recalling the grisly sight.Amelia reached out, placing a comforting hand over Jenna’s.“You said she’d seemed upset.Was that just from an argument with Richard, or something else?”

Jenna glanced at Richard, but he stared down at his hands.She swallowed.“It… it wasn’t anything catastrophic.Catherine and Richard disagreed about the… the potential sale of Brynmor Hall.Catherine and Marianne were apparently considering it—”

Richard jerked upright."Considering?They were practically in agreement, from what Catherine told me.Talking about how the estate's upkeep was too great a financial burden that it made sense to sell."

Marianne, seated a short distance away, stiffened, shooting him a sharp glare.“I was only discussing options,” she insisted.“I never promised anything to Catherine.You can’t blame me for exploring possibilities.”

Richard’s eyes flared with anger.“But you had no right to do that behind my back.This is my ancestral home, the place I grew up—where James grew up, Catherine, Wilkie— all of us.It’s Penrose property.”He inhaled shakily.“Just because my parents decided to leave me nothing in the will doesn’t mean you can brush me aside.”

“Calm down,” Jenna whispered, rubbing his arm soothingly.“We don’t need more drama.Right now, Catherine’s gone… that’s enough heartbreak.”

Amelia’s pencil hovered over her notebook.“So, you argued over the idea of selling Brynmor Hall?”

Richard pressed his lips together."Yes.I couldn't stand the thought of strangers owning it.Catherine insisted it was best for the family to clear debts.And apparently, Marianne was open to that."

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