Death in the Family

by Tessa Wegert

  “Money. It’s always money with Flynn. He told Jasper he can forget about Abby coming to work for the company, no matter what Camilla says. There isn’t enough to pay her. Hell, there’s barely enough to pay me.”

  “That’s why you’re leaving. Better opportunities, bigger paychecks.”

  “I’m leaving,” said Ned irritably, “because I know I’m about to get hosed.”

  “But Flynn wants you to stay.”

  “Flynn doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. He thinks I’ll work for nothing. ‘I’ll support you,’ he says. ‘I’ll take care of you’.” Ned balled his hands. “I’m not his fucking pet.”

  I could see how Camilla’s suggestion that Sinclair Fabrics should hire Abella would leave Flynn enraged. His boyfriend was leaving because the business offered no long-term prospects, but Jasper’s girlfriend was deserving of a corner office? Sinclair Fabrics was floundering, and Flynn was at serious risk of losing Ned. Throw in a few glasses of scotch and Flynn had to be out of his mind. “What else did Flynn say?”

  Again Ned rubbed his thighs. There was always a beat of hesitation before he spoke, as if he was grappling with what to divulge. “That Jas isn’t doing his part.”

  “How could he not be doing his part? Didn’t Jasper come up with a whole new marketing plan?”

  “A plan they didn’t ask for that spent money they don’t have. They hate that he’s around now, and they hate that he’s trying to help them.”

  “If Flynn and Bebe don’t want his help, what do they want?”

  Ned looked at me like I was a moron. “His money,” he said. “Flynn and Bebe are vultures, and they think Jasper’s an easy meal.”

  Where there’s money, there’s someone reaching for the pot. What I’d told Camilla was true. She and Norton thought a ransom note was on the way . . . but what if this attempt at extortion was an inside job? Jasper was careful with his finances, and according to his grandmother, he had savings to spare. But all three siblings had received an inheritance just two years ago. It didn’t add up.

  “Why would they need Jasper’s money?”

  “I told you, the company’s tanking.”

  “Bebe implied it’s a temporary slump.”

  “She’s lying. After Baldwin and Rachel died, Flynn found out the company was deep in debt. He had to pay off a bunch of suppliers and creditors. Bebe pitched in, but it wasn’t enough. Flynn’s trying to keep it quiet, but I’m pretty sure they’re gonna declare bankruptcy. Long story short, they’re screwed.”

  The Sinclairs’ wealth, the posh apartments in the city, their status as the heads of an iconic Garment District institution, the family legacy . . . all of it hinged on keeping Sinclair Fabrics afloat, and by Ned’s account, it was sinking fast. They were the picture of prosperity, among the Thousand Islands’ most elite residents, on par with railroad tycoon George Pullman and Isaac Singer with his sewing machines—according to Tim. I couldn’t imagine them losing it all. Or how desperate they must be to keep it.

  I looked around the library I’d spent so many hours in. With its rich wood built-ins and enormous collection of hardback books, the room was stunning. The whole island was. “There has to be more family money than that. This place must be worth a fortune.”

  “Sure it is. It’s a goddamn gold mine. But Tern belongs to Camilla.”

  “Can’t she loan Flynn and Bebe the money to get the business back on its feet?”

  He flinched and said, “How should I know?”

  Camilla. The previous day, when Jasper and Abella planned to play cards with Camilla, it was Ned they’d chosen to round out the game. In his interview, Flynn told me Ned encouraged him to drop in on Camilla. Ned knew she’d been waiting for Flynn to arrive at the island. That meant Ned had spent time with her already.

  “I know Camilla’s sick,” I said. “There’ll be an inheritance soon. Why would Flynn and Bebe need Jasper’s savings if they have more money coming to them?”

  “Not my family, not my problem. Look, that’s all I know.” Ned leaned back in his chair and tried to look confident. “We done?”

  I’d gone into the interview believing Ned Yeboah was pivotal to the case. He’d been disingenuous with Flynn, and his behavior on the island was troublesome. Yes, he’d shown loyalty to Jasper and Abella, his besties from the city. As for Bebe, the woman he was sleeping with, he’d just called her a liar.

  I wanted to believe Ned was an honorable person. I don’t know any hardened criminals who voluntarily spend their weekends cleaning up dog poop. I had to admit, though: the man was starting to piss me off. I’d waited all day to talk to him, and while he’d given me more to work with than the others, he was still holding out. Flynn, Bebe, Abella, Miles . . . every road led back to Ned.

  “You wanna be done?” I said. “Okay, let’s finish with a recap. Jasper’s been missing for hours and that’s blood up there on his sheets, a lot of it. He was here last night, and now he’s not. This house is filled with his closest family and friends. I have a hard time believing not one of you knows what happened here.”

  I tented my fingers and studied his face. “It’s been a long day, Ned, and I’ve conducted a lot of interviews. Would you care to know what I found when I grilled the others? I found you. You and Bebe.” I nodded at the window. “Out there, in that shed.”

  Ned’s face opened up in surprise, and I felt a prickle of fear. Was it possible I was wrong? “You’re having an affair with her,” I said, pushing harder. “You’re sleeping with Bebe behind Flynn’s and Jasper’s backs, and yesterday somebody caught you. There was no mistaking what they saw. I have to tell you, Ned, it’s been suggested you might not have been so sorry to wake up and find Jasper gone. That maybe you had something to do with our missing person and his blood.”

  “That’s bullshit. Who said that?”

  “You say Jasper’s a good friend, but it looks to me like you used him to get to Flynn and now Bebe.”

  “That’s not true. I didn’t do that.” Ned’s long fingers clawed at his knees.

  I was wired and my senses hummed—my questions were getting to him, at last. “You put Abby’s boyfriend’s life at risk when you went out to that shed.”

  “Don’t you talk about her,” he said in a fierce voice. “Don’t you say her name.”

  “How do you think she felt when she saw you fucking Jasper’s sister? Because she did see, Ned. It was Abby out there, not him.”

  In a flurry of movement Ned got to his feet—and I reached for my gun. The burn, the gauze, the pain, none of it mattered when my fingers made contact with the pistol grip. In a fraction of a second I was looking down the barrel at Ned.

  “Fuck! Don’t shoot!” cried Ned. “I was just gonna leave, that’s all!”

  What the hell? I’d drawn my weapon. Why had I drawn my weapon? My heart was in my throat and Ned’s hands were in the air, his face scrunched up in fear. The man towered over me, but he was unarmed and obviously scared, and there I was ready to splatter his brains all over the library wall.

  “Sit,” I said, my head hot with shame and my 9mm bouncing all over the place. I holstered the gun. Pull yourself together, Shay, my God. It was the pressure of the day, I told myself. I was off my game. But what if it was something else, too?

  “I’m all out of patience,” I said.

  Ned sat down hard. He was shaking, and he couldn’t get control of his hands. “Okay! Okay. Last year, Bebe and Flynn met with Camilla in the city. They wanted to borrow some money.”

  “How much money?”

  “Five million.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Did she give it to them?”

  “Yeah. It was supposed to be part of their inheritance. She doled it out early, even sold the boat to pad the check. But they spent it all on the business.”

  “Five million,” I repeated. “Just . . . gone.”r />
  Ned’s Adam’s apple wriggled down his throat. “And they still needed more. On July fourth weekend they asked to see her again. Here, on the island. Jas and I came, too, and Miles brought Jade. We all knew how sick she was by then. I honestly thought they wanted to say good-bye. But instead Flynn and Bebe asked for more money. This time, Camilla turned them down.”

  I drew in a breath. “So they asked Jasper.” I was on the edge of my chair again, my eyes unblinking and dry. “But Jasper refused.”

  “It’s not that he doesn’t care about the company,” Ned said. “He’s working damn hard to turn things around. But now Flynn and Bebe are practically broke, and Jas doesn’t want the same thing to happen to him. He was planning on quitting. He was done with them.”

  Past tense. There it was.

  “All the money Camilla has left goes to Jasper now.”

  Unless Jasper’s not around to take it. “You should have told me this hours ago,” I said through gritted teeth. Ned Yeboah had been sitting on the motive that explained almost everything, and he’d done it because he didn’t want to upset his lover. But it wasn’t Ned who was causing anger to thrum in my veins. This was the missing piece I’d been hunting for. I’d interrogated everyone else on Tern Island. I should have managed to expose this critical data point long ago.

  “If Bebe’s involved in Jasper’s disappearance, you can’t protect her,” I said. “She—”

  “Protect her?” Ned’s laugh was chilling. “I’m not protecting that bitch. She used me to make herself feel young. Begged me to tell her how sexy she is.” He said it with revulsion. “Don’t you see? Bebe’s my way out. I made the worst mistake of my life getting together with Flynn, and he refuses to accept it’s over. He texts me in the middle of the night freaking about some picture of me and a friend he saw on Instagram. Two weeks ago he followed me to my parents’ place and yelled up at my window like a fucking psychopath. Those two can go to hell together, for all I care—and I swear, if they did something to Jasper? I’ll send them there myself.”

  NINETEEN

  The case came down to money: Jasper had it, and his siblings needed it. At least, that’s what Ned wanted me to believe. He’d taken his time with the big reveal, and I was uncomfortable with that, but numerous aspects of his story rang true. Between the delicate state of Camilla’s health and Jasper’s forthcoming engagement, what remained of the Sinclair family fortune was about to be redistributed, and Flynn and Bebe didn’t stand to profit. If they hoped to save the business, they needed another influx of funds. It was now or never. Their last chance to make a change.

  It was a believable motive, but did Jasper’s siblings really have it in them to kill their kid brother? I didn’t subscribe to Tim’s utopian ideals—there are bad people everywhere, an island paradise included—but this was an especially heinous crime, one that took grit and a heart cold as a river stone. To pull it off, Flynn and Bebe had to work together. But Bebe was sleeping with Ned, and I had a hunch she didn’t know she was being used. The idea of her partnering up with her brother boggled my mind, as did the notion that Flynn could control his anger long enough to tiptoe while butchering the man he loathed in a full house in the dead of night.

  Alone in the library, I took a minute to text Tim the latest news: another witness statement, another motive, this time supported by physical assault. I recapped everything Ned had said. Tim was my investigator, but it was my idea to drag him out here, and I owed it to him to keep him informed. Still, I made a point of leaving out the incident with the gun.

  If Tim had been with me when Ned gave his statement, he would have found a way to argue that Jasper survived. There was an element of willful ignorance to Tim’s attitude. I knew he’d draw a different, much less dramatic conclusion, like that Jas knew what was coming and took off while he still could. If he did, I’d tell Tim he was wrong. Why leave Abella behind? Jasper was about to propose to the girl, yet he’d abandoned her in a house with two greedy, angry, unscrupulous people who were out of options. And if Ned was such good friends with Jasper, why did he wait all day to reveal critical information that could help us solve this case?

  The text I’d been waiting for from McIntyre finally came while I was finishing my message to Tim. I didn’t waste any time calling her back.

  “What’d you find?”

  “No ‘hi, Maureen’? No ‘how’s tricks?’”

  I laughed. “Sorry. Eager beaver, I guess.”

  “As you should be. I’ve got news.”

  Sheriff McIntyre had done extensive digging. Some of the facts she reported I’d already unearthed for myself, and to my dismay nothing she added pointed a big foam finger at any one of our witnesses. Nobody had a criminal record, and aside from Miles’s divorce from Jade’s mother, there was nothing unexpected in the way of publicly recorded relationships. In keeping with their respective accounts, all the guests lived in Manhattan. Abella was newly unemployed, but her LinkedIn updates suggested she was actively looking for a job. If she was counting on Jasper for financial help, she was at least smart enough to have a backup plan.

  The transfer of power at Sinclair Fabrics from Baldwin and Rachel to Bebe and Flynn also checked out, and it appeared Ned’s description of the business’s financial health was bang on. By poking around on Twitter, Mac discovered Sinclair Fabrics was soon to be the subject of a magazine feature. A freelance reporter had bombarded the company’s Twitter account with inflammatory questions about Attitude and the increasingly competitive textile industry. Domestic suppliers were mostly doing well, and a push on the part of the federal government to buy American meant products like the Sinclairs’ were in high demand. Even considering the competition there should have been enough business to go around, so the reporter wanted to know why the company wasn’t capitalizing on the opportunity. McIntyre got the sense the piece wouldn’t be favorable. The writer’s attempts to snag a quote from a Sinclair heir ended with the company ignoring her requests, but that didn’t mean a story wasn’t imminent. Just one more source of pressure for Bebe and Flynn.

  Like Ned said, Camilla Sinclair sold her boat—a “gorgeous 46-foot 2005 Riviera 40 Flybridge,” whatever that was—the previous year for close to $600,000. McIntyre tracked Miles to a law office in Midtown, where he provided general counsel to companies without in-house lawyers. From what McInytre could tell, he’d never worked for Sinclair Fabrics.

  As for Philip Norton, it was true he’d been with the family for close to twenty years. He had accounts with the local market, hardware store, and fishmonger on the Sinclairs’ behalf, and when he wasn’t on the island he rented an apartment in a small complex in Alexandria Bay. Everything our witnesses said about their everyday lives looked to be accurate. Unfortunately for me, the real value lay in what they were keeping back.

  “Your turn,” McIntyre said when she was through.

  “God, where do I start? Jasper’s sister is sleeping with his brother’s lover, and they think Jasper caught on to the affair yesterday afternoon. Jasper’s brother has a history of treating him like garbage and busted his lip last night. Jasper planned to propose to his girlfriend, but his sister’s husband’s daughter has a thing for him that’s not exactly aboveboard for a teenage girl. We’ve got a terminally ill grandmother sitting on a fortune, and a longtime caretaker about to be out of a job. But right now my money’s on the siblings. They’re trying to save the family business, and Jasper’s due for a big inheritance when his grandma dies. If he’s not around, it could go to them instead.”

  “So just your average open-and-shut case.” She snorted. “What does Tim think?”

  The question made me hesitate. In the parlor, Tim had looked utterly at ease. Had nothing we’d learned over the course of the day changed his mind about the magnitude of Jasper’s disappearing act? “The blood indicates assault, but last I checked, Tim thinks Jasper left the island on his own.”

  “Okay, what
am I missing?” I could hear the confusion in McIntyre’s voice. It sounded much like my own.

  “Bebe says Jasper gets a kick out of messing with her and Flynn. I guess it’s possible he could have staged this, but everything about that feels wrong. Tim’s hoping we’ll find him in Canada, or back in the city.”

  “Tim’s always been the optimistic type,” said Mac. I got the sense she didn’t think the personality trait was all that useful. “For what it’s worth, I talked to the manager at Jasper’s building. He checked the apartment for me. All clear, no indication of anything unseemly.”

  I nodded to myself. Figured as much.

  “I called the hospitals, around here and in Kingston, too,” she said. “Jasper hasn’t turned up and they’ve got no John Does that fit his description, dead or alive. If he did leave on his own, he couldn’t get back to Tern now if he wanted to.”

  The storm, she explained, had gotten worse. The National Weather Service was predicting it would rage all night, with gale-force winds and more flooding. Waves were breaking records, and there were fallen trees and downed power lines all over the mainland. An apartment building had caught fire, and the flooding displaced a half-dozen families from their homes. Since I last spoke with Mac, A-Bay had gone from a town quietly shouldering a bit of rough October weather to a community in full-on panic mode. With the trooper boat out of commission, she’d been working on another way to get help to the island. There were available patrol boats a couple towns over, but McIntyre hesitated to dispatch them in such rough waters.

  “So,” she said after a beat. “How do you feel?”

  “I don’t know. A little peckish?”

  “Shay.”

  “What? It’s been a while since lunch.” McIntyre went silent, and eventually I sighed. The truth was, I didn’t feel great. There was still no infallible evidence of a murder on the island to validate my gut instinct. Every time I thought I had the case figured out, something happened to make me question my lead. I was sinking deeper and deeper into the family’s dark and convoluted lives, and I was running out of air.