“I’ve entered Susan’s number in the contacts list. Scroll to it and keep the speaker on. I want to warn her what’s coming.”

The phone rang twice. “Ethel?” Susan asked.

“Yes. Listen. I’ve just made arrangements for the Secret Service to come to the house. They’ve released Jonathan’s name, and I suggested it might be good to have someone run interference if the press descends upon you.”

“But I’m not at home. My sister, Rebecca, came a few minutes after you left. We’re taking Davie to IHOP.”

“Good. Stay away from the house until you hear from Director Bradshaw. He’ll move quickly.”

The phone was silent a few seconds. Then, a stifled sob broke through. “Thank you, Ethel. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

“You and Davie be strong. We’ll get justice for Jonathan. You know he’d be doing the same for his fellow agents. I’ll be back in touch.”

Ethel nodded for Jesse to end the call.

He sat quietly for a moment and then said, “You’re really good with her. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.”

“I can’t imagine what she will go through if Jonathan turns out to be complicit in whatever happened.”

“And you? Won’t you feel betrayed?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll be sympathetic. But we won’t know till we find out the truth.”

Jesse felt the moment had come when he could broach the question that kept surfacing in his mind. “Ethel, you said in the hospital your father had been murdered and that you had tracked down his killer. How did that happen? My mother never told me.”

For a few moments, Ethel kept her eyes on the road, and Jesse thought his question was going to be ignored.

Then, with a quick glance at him, she said, “No, I guess she wouldn’t say anything.” She focused back on her driving. “Murder was something that was viewed as a scourge on the family. On two families, really. Given the double blood ties, the family endured a double suffering. When my mother died in childbirth, it was the loss of a wife and a sister. When my father was murdered, a brother and widower were gone.”

“So, no one would talk about it?”

Ethel gave a mirthless laugh. “Unpleasantness was something my aunt and uncle avoided at all cost. To discuss it was to admit that it had happened.”

“Didn’t you see them growing up?”