“Who are you?” yells a male voice, one I recognize from earlier today.

Caitlin stops the recording. “That’s Randall Regan. He came at me, Penn. He would have killed me if he could. I had to fire a shot into the floor to stop him. He got my tape recorder. It fell out of my purse. But at least we have this.” She holds up her phone in triumph. “So, what do you think? As a lawyer?”

I shake my head in disbelief. “As your future husband, I think you’re crazy. As a lawyer … it’s the closest anyone’s gotten to real evidence in the Albert Norris case.”

“The Norris case! Penn, Katy Royal just said her father killed at least seven people, if you count the plane crash—including Viola Turner.”

“I know,” I murmur, troubled by something I can’t quite pin down. “Five minutes ago, I was sure Lincoln Turner had euthanized his mother. Or screwed up trying to revive her.”

“Based on pure conjecture. That’s a theory, and a damned complicated one.” She shakes the phone in my face. “This is Royal’s daughter saying he killed Viola. On tape. Or in digital memory, whatever.”

“She didn’t use Viola’s name.”

Caitlin’s mouth forms an O of disbelief. “What other ‘colored nurse’ could she be talking about?”

“But my scenario explained Dad’s behavior. His willingness to take the fall.”

“Because he believes Lincoln is his son?”

“Right.”

She gives an exasperated sigh. “Maybe Tom does believe that. Maybe Lincoln believes it, too. That explains his willingness to take a DNA test. But I don’t. No way is Tom the father of that man.”

“Why not?”

“Logic, for one thing. You told me Lincoln is blacker than Viola was, right? Tom’s ancestors were Scots-English. He’s as light as I am, and that’s saying something.”

“Lincoln says that’s possible. He’s checked the genetics of it.”

“He’s a disbarred lawyer with zero objectivity! I’d prefer the opinion of an actual geneticist on that.” Her voice gains certainty as she goes on. “Lincoln claims your father has known about him for years, right? Again—no way. Tom wouldn’t have kept that secret for forty years. He would have owned up to it.”

“I’m not sure. Dad has his secrets. He’s never told me what happened to him in Korea.”

“A lot of veterans are like that. If you’d been drafted to go fight somewhere, he’d have told you about Korea. Did Lincoln say or imply that your mother knows anything about him?”

“No.”

She gives me a pointed look. “Do you plan on asking Peggy about Lincoln?”

“Hell, no! Not if I can avoid it.”