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“She was the best of everyone, all of us,” Susan said.

I nodded.

“Your father loved you, but he was somewhat lost without her.”

“I’m sure.” I pushed away things I wanted to feel, the memories I didn’t have because I’d never known my mother, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t wanted to hear the stories. Just not today.

“Maybe someday we can spend some time talking about her,” Susan said.

“I’d like that. Why is she pictured here? She was long gone by the time everything happened.”

Susan nodded. “She was, but it was … her things that were taken and used by that boy, Silas.”

I shook my head. “Can you explain that better?”

“When it all fell apart, Wilmot called me to help that day. He knew he could trust me not to tell anyone what happened, and I was doing okay, so I agreed. I helped get everyone and everything cleaned up—”

“Susan, where was I?” I interjected.

“Oh.” She fell into thought. “You were never around. I can’t remember what you were doing, but your father made sure to hold the classes when you weren’t home. The kids who took the classes did so without parental approval, not that that really mattered until the end anyway. He didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation. When the last class happened, you were in Tucson for a workshop.”

I remembered a week in Tucson, working with the university at a fake archeological dig. It was something they set up to give teenagers a chance to see if they might like archeology. I hadn’t, but that’s where I’d met my future mentor, Dr. Fulgi. She’d seen my keen interest in the bones, but not the tedious digging. Meeting her had been fortuitous.

I laughed once. “I was away from my father for one week during all our years together, and that was when all this happened?” I didn’t remember that the workshop had been right before he’d disappeared either.

“I believe so.” Susan lifted her hands and then dropped them back onto her lap.

I sighed. I was glad I hadn’t forgotten the things that had taken place in my father’s shop. I’d been away, and as that week came back to me, so did returning home from it and finding Wilmot leaving doors open and unlocked again for the few days he was still there.

“Okay,” I continued. “What happened?”

“A few days or maybe a week before that day, one of the kids snuck up to the apartment, took a box of your mother’s stuff that Wilmot had up there. Then the things were added to some gruesome thing he created—”

“Let me guess the items in the box. A red scarf, a barbeque fork, a gold pendant, and a knife.”

Susan shook her head. “No knife, but the other things were Catalina’s.”

“A barbeque fork?”

Susan laughed. “Yes. She would take it with her on hikes. She killed scorpions with it.”

“That’s strange.”

Susan fell into thought. Her eyes glazed, but she smiled this time.

“Hang on,” David said. “Just give her a minute.”

Susan continued, “Your mother was a character. She grabbed the fork one day when she was out on the patio. She speared a scorpion. Your father thought it was so funny. She liked his laugh.” Susan sighed and then waved away the memories. “Anyway, your father was so angry when the box was taken.”

“The box was taken before the last class, so the items inside were used on the creation?”

Susan nodded. “Yes. If I remember correctly, Wilmot told me that he should have just let the box go, not mention it. He went to a few of the kids’ houses to ask about it, and one of the fathers was particularly upset that his son might have stolen something. Then things about the class came to light. It got ugly, but the box was never found. Then the thing showed up with the items included, and one of the kids had a bucket of blood. He was so angry about being found out by his father—”

“One of the kids? Wait. Was this two separate kids?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. When Wilmot called for help, I just went out and helped.” She looked at David briefly and then back at me. “It gave me something to focus on, and sometimes that’s good, though not all the time.”

“Your aunt had nothing to do with anything that occurred,” David said. “She just helped in the aftermath.”