“No, really," Julie insisted.
“It was the egg cartons first," Jane said. "Mel had described some footprints that were found near Ginger's body. He said they were blurry and rectangular. It. sounded like some kind of weird shoes or boots. But I wondered at the time why somebody who obviously didn't want to be identified would deliberately wear footgear that was so easily identifiable. Then, this morning I was holding two egg cartons and it suddenly occurred to me that you could tape them to your feet, then just put them back into the trash and nobody would ever associate them with shoes. Which is exactly what Sam did. Some of the duct tape he used to keep them on his feet was still on them."
“But why did you think of Sam? We all have egg cartons," Julie persisted.
“Because I'd seen them in his recycling bin when we went there for dinner. That's the only reason he even crossed my mind. But egg cartons made me think of milk cartons. Pet told me she had to drink special milk. I tasted hers at her house and it tasted exactly like the ordinary milk you get in paper cartons."
“Because it was," Shelley added.
“I don't get it yet," Julie said.
“It wasn't the milk that was different," Jane explained. "It was the container.”
Julie thought for a minute, then her eyes opened very wide. "They have pictures of missing children on them!"
“Right. And Sam didn't dare risk Pet ever seeing her name or one of those 'age-enhanced' pictures on a milk carton," Shelley said.
“I still could have been badly wrong," Jane said. "It was all just mental leaping around. But it gave Mel what he needed. He immediately contacted the missing-children people in Florida. It literally only took seconds because Sam hadn't even attempted to change his name. He just took Pet and left one day while his wife was at the grocery store."
“We should have realized something had changed when he wanted to be invited to the cookie party," Shelley said.
“Right," Jane said. "He hadn't wanted anything to do with the neighbors until then. I'd invited him to the caroling party and he didn't even respond, much less show up. Then suddenly the next day, he wants to be involved in neighborhood activities."
“And wanted to be chummy with you in particular," Shelley said.
Jane made a face at her. "What's so weird about that?"
“You've been here in the neighborhood all this
time, but as soon as Lance King was killed right
next door to you after being in your house, he's
suddenly interested in you. That's what's weird."
"And I thought it was my charm," Jane said.
“Has Sam admitted to the murder?" Julie asked. Jane nodded. "He went to pieces, Mel told me. Said he'd dreaded losing Pet all these years. He was obsessed with it. He feared everybody who asked him about himself was a private detective. And when he heard Lance King was coming to the neighborhood, he was worried. Then Lance did that piece on the news about the 'dirty underbelly of life in the suburbs' or whatever it was, and he was horrified that Lance knew about Pet. It was sheer panic, I imagine, that made him come up here and watch to see if Lance left the house between broadcasts. And, unfortunately for both of them, that's just what Lance did."
“Did Lance know about Sam and Pet?" Shelley asked.
“I don't imagine we'll ever know," Jane said. "But my guess is that he did. Mel says there's a perfect view of the Dwyer house from the Johnsons' roof. No trees or fences in the way. And it had to be someone on the opposite side of the street he was watching."
“And what about that reporter?" Julie asked. "Apparently he just stumbled onto her by accident. He had no idea she was there, and nearly ran into her. Then he really panicked and ran home."
“So he didn't have the egg cartons on his feet to keep him from being identified as the person who hit her?"
“I don't think so. I think he was just afraid the police might come back and see strange footprints and ask him what he'd been looking for," Jane said.
“I know what he did was awful," Julie said, tapping her fingertips on the table. "But it was only because he loved his daughter so much that he did those awful things.”
Shelley said, "But he didn't do it for Pet, really. He did it for himself. To keep her to himself and away from her mother. I suppose he thought that was in Pet's best interests, but still, it wasn't right to steal the child and then kill someone to keep from being discovered.”
Jane poured them all some coffee and sat down where she could see out the front window. "Pet is twelve years old. Almost thirteen. Sam told Mel that if she'd been sixteen, he wouldn't have done anything. He thought the 'window' for losing her ended then because even if he were found out, she'd have the legal choice of deciding which parent to stay with."
“And he didn't doubt she'd choose him?" Julie asked.
“How could he doubt it?" Shelley said. "Sam was the only parent she knew or remembered."
“I'm not so sure," Jane said. "She remembers her mother vividly, or thinks she does.”
Jane caught a flash of light outside and looked out the window. A police car had pulled into the driveway. Jane motioned to Shelley and Julie to stay put. Then she went to the front door, opened it, and waited.
The woman who came to the door looked much like she had in the photograph album. Older, of course. And a bit thinner. Less flamboyant. And very, very nervous.
“I'm Patty Sue Dwyer," she said.
“I know you are," Jane said with a smile. "I've never been happier to meet anyone. I thought youmight want to meet with Pet privately. Come up to my bedroom and I'll send her to you.”
“What if she hates me?" Patty Sue blurted out. She was very pale in spite of a good Florida tan. "She won't," Jane assured her.
Jane got Patty Sue settled in her bedroom and closed the door, then went to Todd's room. He was still fiddling with the hamster gadget. Pet was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, and her gaze was fixed blankly on the opposite wall.
“Pet?" Jane said.
Pet turned to her slowly, her eyes behind her goggly glasses bleak.
“I have something for you. Come to my room with me.”
Pet followed obediently. Jane opened the door and Pet stepped in. Patty Sue stood perfectly still and said, "Oh, Pet. My darling Pet.”
Pet was frozen in place. She stared and blinked owlishly. Then she whispered, "Mommy!" and ran to fling herself into her mother's waiting arms.
Christmas morning dawned bright and clear, the sun sparkling on what remained of the snow. It was the one day of the year that the kids wanted to get up early. There had always been a rule, however, that they couldn't come downstairs until nine o'clock. They were lined up like racehorses at the starting post at one minute before. Jane and the kids went through the comfortable, comforting routine. Todd distributed the gifts and they opened them one at a time, going from youngest to oldest until everything was opened.
Jane fixed a light breakfast and afterwards, the kids tried on new clothes, checked out their new stuff, and Jane indulged herself in playing the adventure game Mike had gotten her for her laptop. At noon, Thelma arrived, this time without her son Ted and his wife Dixie. Ted and Dixie spent Christmas Day with Dixie's parents and siblings. Mel and Addie arrived an hour later. Mel looked happy and rested.
“How's Pet doing?" he asked.
“Patty Sue called a few minutes ago and said they were both fine," Jane answered.
“Poor child," Addie said. Apparently Mel had filled her in on the case and its resolution. "Her father going to jail."
“But she has her mother back," Jane said. "That doesn't make it better, exactly, but she needs her mother's influence. If you could have seen her smile when she and her mother came downstairs—" Jane started tearing up again. She'd done that a couple of times since witnessing the reunion and would probably keep on doing so for quite a while. "I have to check the turkey," she said, turning away abruptly.