"Greg did his graduate work at Harvard," Schuepp filled in. "Never lost his love for Boston. When it became clear Russell's family needed to leave Philadelphia, Gregory was only too happy to lend a helping hand." The old professor turned to Annabelle. He pressed her palm between his own age-spotted digits. "How much did your father tell you, dear?"

"Nothing. He never wanted me to worry; then it was too late."

"Until they discovered the grave in Mattapan," Schuepp finished for her. "I saw it on the news, even debated calling the police myself once I read your name. I was fairly certain it couldn't be your remains that were recovered. I was guessing it was that other young girl, the one from your street."

"Dori Petracelli."

"Yes, that's right. She went missing a few weeks after you left. Nearly killed your father. For all his planning, Russell never saw that coming. What a terrible burden to bear. After that, I can imagine why he never told you a thing. What kind of father wants his daughter to discover he saved her life by sacrificing her best friend? Such terrible, terrible choices, for such terrible, terrible days."

"Mr. Schuepp-" Annabelle started.

"Mr. Schuepp," Bobby interrupted, fumbling with his pen now, frantic to get it all written down.

The wizened old man smiled. "Guess I'm not going to make my conference," he said. He picked up the scotch, splashed it in his glass, and gulped it down.

And started his story from the beginning.

YOUR FATHER-ROGER Grayson was how he was known back then-lost his parents when he was twelve. It's not something he liked to talk about. I never heard the details from him, only from Greg, who picked up the tale from scuttlebutt around the department. It was a domestic violence case, I'm afraid. Russell, well, Roger, I guess-"

"Russell, call him Russell," Annabelle spoke up. "That's how I think of him." Her lips twisted, she seemed to be trying out the words. "Roger Grayson. Roger, please don't go…" She frowned, grimaced, and stated more emphatically, "Russell."

"Russell it is. So Russell's mother tried to leave Russell's father. The father didn't take the news so well, returning to the house one night with a gun. He shot and killed them both. Russell was in the house that night. His younger brother, too."

"Brother?" Annabelle exclaimed, bewildered.

Bobby's pen paused over his notebook. "Two male Graysons?" He pictured the sketch again, the resemblance to the description they had of Annabelle's father, and suddenly everything started to make sense.

Schuepp nodded. "Brother. You have an uncle, my dear, though I'm sure you've never heard of him."

"No, I haven't."

"It's what your father wanted. For good reason. After the shooting, Russell and his brother-Tommy-were fortunate to be admitted into the Milton Hershey School for disadvantaged children. Even back then, both boys showed great academic promise, and the Hershey boarding-school program was an excellent fit. Academic rigor in a lovely, pastoral setting.

"Your father did exceptionally well. Tommy, seven years your father's junior, did not. From the beginning, there were signs of mental health issues. Rage/impulse control problems. ADHD. Reactive attachment disorder. I have an interest in the field; been working to develop a statistical model to assist evaluators examining young children. But that's neither here nor there."

Schuepp waved away his own conversational tangent with his hand, then continued more briskly. "Your father graduated early and was accepted at Penn. He was an incredibly gifted student, and Gregory took a shine to him. Under his guidance, Russell submatriculated into the master's program and began to think seriously about pursuing his Ph.D. in mathematics. Along the way, he fell in love with a beautiful nursing student and halfway through his doctorate program, Russell married your mother.

"It was about this time that Tommy quit the Hershey school. With no other family, Tommy sought out your father. And not knowing what else to do, your father took him in. Not an ideal situation for a newly married man juggling a young wife and demanding studies, but these are the things families do.

"Tommy took a job as a dishwasher in a local restaurant. He worked as a bouncer at night and engaged in general mayhem during the day Russell bailed him out of jail three times, for minor infractions involving brawling, drugs, alcohol. It was always the other guy's fault, according to Tommy. The other guy started it.

"Finally, your mother sat Russell down one night and told him that she was scared. Twice she'd caught Tommy peeking into the bedroom when she was changing. And once when she was in the shower, she was pretty sure he'd entered the bathroom. When she called out his name, he'd panicked and run.

"That was enough for your father. He'd pulled himself up by his own bootstraps; Tommy could do the same. So Russell kicked out his younger brother. Just in time, apparently, because a few weeks later, your mother discovered she was pregnant.

"Tommy, unfortunately, never really went away. He'd arrive unannounced at odd hours. Sometimes Russell was there. Often he wasn't. Your mother, Leslie-Lucy, as she was known back then-"

Bobby quickly scribbled down the name, while watching Annabelle's lips form the word. Lucy. Lucy Grayson. He wondered what it was like for her to hear her mother's real name for the first time, after all these years. But Schuepp was still talking, leaving little time for speculation.

"… became so concerned that she'd keep all the lights off and the TV volume down so it would seem like no one was home," Schuepp was saying. "Except Tommy persisted in showing up, generally within ten minutes of her returning home from a shift at the hospital. Leslie, your mother, became convinced that he was following her.

"Russell confronted his brother, told him this foolishness had to stop. Tommy wasn't invited into their lives anymore. If he showed up again, Russell was calling the cops.

"Shortly thereafter, dead and mutilated animals appeared outside their apartment building. Skinned cats. Decapitated squirrels. Russell was convinced it was Tommy. He consulted with the police. There wasn't much they could do without proof. Russell installed a home security system, added chain locks, even mounted a high-powered motion-sensitive light outside the front door. Leslie agreed not to walk home alone from work anymore. Instead, Russell walked her each way.

"Gregory remembered one night finding Russell sitting in his office, staring at nothing. When Gregory knocked politely on the door, Russell told him, 'He's going to kill her. My father murdered my mother. Tommy will destroy my wife.'

"Gregory didn't know what to say. Life continued, and a few months later, Leslie gave birth. Tommy had disappeared somewhere; Russell didn't know where and didn't care. He loved being a new father. Was crazy about every aspect of it. He and your mother settled in and had the honeymoon they'd never gotten before. Until-"

"Tommy came back," Annabelle filled in quietly.

"You were eighteen months old," Schuepp supplied. "Later, Russell learned the only reason Tommy had vanished was that he'd served time on assault charges. Minute he was released, he picked up just where he'd left off. Except he no longer cared about Leslie. He wanted you.

"First time, he confronted Russell and Leslie on the street. They were walking home from the park, you were in the stroller. It was broad daylight. The minute he saw Russell and Leslie, Tommy crossed the street and blocked their path. 'How are you, good to see you, is this my new niece? Oh, she's gorgeous.' He snatched you up before Russell could move, cooing and cuddling. Russell tried to get you back. Tommy twisted away He had a gleam in his eye, Russell said. He was terrified. He wasn't sure if Tommy was going to kiss you or toss you in front of oncoming traffic.