“It could?”

“Much worse. You don’t want to know.”

“They also mentioned that the mother was an aspiring actress.”

“Isn’t everybody in LA?” Eve asked.

“Tell me she doesn’t remind you of Mom and that you aren’t seeing me and Kenny in those missing kids.”

“I haven’t had a chance to think about the similarities.”

That was a lie. The parallels were striking and she couldn’t help but see her herself in Caitlin, which made the gruesome murders even more horrible to contemplate.

“But you’re feeling them,” Lisa said, “which is why you asked me to make a house call.”

Lisa was always attuned to the emotions at play in a situation, which is why she got hurt so easily by tension in the house when they were growing up. It was also why Eve had felt such a strong need to minimize the strife around them any way she could. But it was a futile effort. Eve was undermined by her mom’s irrational behavior at every turn.

“Actually, what I’m feeling is a headache and, thanks to the ER stories you’ve told me, I’m worried about the risk of a subdural hematoma.”

“Were you hit on the head today?”

“Yes,” Eve said. “With a rock.”

“How hard?”

“I might have passed out for a minute or two.”

“Damn it.” Lisa took the spoon and the ice cream away from Eve. “Sit down.”

Eve took a seat at the kitchen table. Lisa rummaged angrily in her purse, took out a penlight, and shined it into Eve’s eyes.

“Why didn’t you go to the hospital?” Lisa asked.

“There was too much happening with the investigation,” she said. “But I did ask an ER nurse to come to my house with a first aid kit.”

“When you say that, it usually means ice cream and a sympathetic ear, not medical supplies,” Lisa said. “Look right and then left without moving your head.”

Eve did as she was told. Lisa put down the penlight and held a finger up in front of Eve’s face.

“Now follow my finger.” Lisa moved her finger from left to right, then up and down. “What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

Lisa lowered her finger. “What was the name of the director Mom dated with the ’70s porn star mustache?”

“Hank Bloom.”

“How many times has Mom had a boob job?”

“Three,” Eve said. “Why are you asking me all these questions?”

“I’m checking your mental acuity.” Lisa examined the wound on Eve’s head. “It doesn’t look like you need any stitches. When was your last tetanus shot?”

“Two years ago when I got that dog bite.”

“I think you’ll live,” Lisa said. “What about the woman and kids you’re looking for?”

“They’re dead,” Eve said. “We just haven’t found their bodies yet.”

Lisa gave her sister a long, appraising look. “Don’t make this case personal, Eve, though it’s laughable for me to say that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eve picked up the spoon and started working on the ice cream again.