“I’ll certainly do that,” Val said, wiping her fingers on a napkin, taking a moment before carefully asking the next question. “Do you have any other children besides Gabrielle?” Val held her breath. Claudia mentioned that she had been the nanny to all the Morgan children. Sometimes siblings have a better understanding, deeper knowledge of each other than parents. Maybe speaking to one of them might help with piecing together the kind of person Gabrielle was.

“We have another daughter, Bridget. She’s two years older than Gabrielle,” Mrs. Morgan said.

“Can we get her contact information?” Gavin took his phone from his pocket, ready to enter the details. Val sat forward too.

“She lives with us,” Mr. Morgan answered plainly. For the first time he did not look at Gavin when he spoke. James Morgan kept his eyes down.

Gavin straightened in his chair. “Can we speak with her, then?”

Mr. Morgan also straightened. “Today is not a good day. She’s taking Gabrielle’s death hard. She’s been given a sedative to help her calm down.”

“Did Gabrielle maintain contact with her sister during the time you were estranged?” Gavin asked.

“No.” Mr. Morgan set his cup down hard enough to clank the saucer. The noise made Mrs. Morgan jump.

“No?” Gavin raised his eyebrows. “I’m not understanding. You said Bridget took Gabrielle’s death hard.”

“You’ll have to forgive me for not fully explaining,” Mr. Morgan said, his demeanor politely softening. “Bridget has developmental disabilities. I refuse to put her in a situation that she is not capable of handling. She loved her sister Gabrielle dearly, and when Gabrielle cut us off, Bridget deteriorated to a level I had not seen before. Being subjected to questions regarding her sister’s death is not something Bridget will be able to tolerate. I’m sure you understand, Detective Gavin.”

Val could see the body language between Mrs. Morgan and her husband. The uncomfortable shifting and sideways glancing. “Any other kids?” Val asked, throwing her fishing line out one more time. She reached for another fruit tart, blueberry this time.

“We had a set of twins, a boy and a girl.” Mr. Morgan picked up his cup again, seeming eager to move this conversation on.

“Had?” Gavin asked. Val nearly spat out her tart. Not reporting their other children in news articles was one thing, but the Morgans wouldn’t be able to hide them from the police. Mr. Morgan had no choice but to answer Gavin’s questions.

Again, a strong movement from Rachel Morgan towards her husband.

“They died in a swimming accident in our pool,” Mr. Morgan said with no emotion. “It was many years ago.”

“They died together?” Gavin asked, the surprise evident in his voice.