Death in the Family Read online

  Jasper explained the English call her Abby, while the French use Bella. Flynn didn’t like that. Having two nicknames felt like deceit. Even before meeting her, Flynn wasn’t optimistic about his brother’s relationship. Jasper and Abella met at the PR firm where Jasper used to work. She was from Montreal and in the U.S. on a work visa, but she’d recently been fired. Without a company to back her, Abella couldn’t stay in the country much longer. Her whole life was up in the air, and Flynn mistrusted her instability.

  “You’re late, by the way,” Jasper said with annoyance. “Your better half’s already here.”

  “Some of us have to work.” Flynn forced a laugh. “Jasper parties for a living, you know that, Abby?”

  “Abby knows exactly what fashion marketing entails,” Jasper said, “and that we’re operating in a saturated and competitive market. Not as easy as it sounds.”

  “Parties for a living, like I said. It’s freezing out here,” said Flynn with a shiver. “Let’s go up, yeah?”

  An avid indoor cyclist—he pushed a stationary bike to its limits daily while trainers shouted at him over live-streaming video—Flynn shouldn’t have had trouble with the steps, but as he ascended the pathway toward the house he felt winded. Jasper, on the other hand, talked nonstop as he climbed, his stories punctuated by Abella’s laugh. She giggled in all the right places. The rhythm of their conversation was so smooth it appeared rehearsed. That, too, grated on Flynn. He couldn’t stop thinking about what awaited him at the house.

  Tern Island was ready for company, meaning the house looked like an interior stylist came through to buff and fluff every object in sight. A long table was set on the enclosed porch, the mule-deer-antler chandelier that hung above it wiped clean of dust and rubbed to a resin-like shine. Later, Norton would light a couple dozen candles and the family would eat while the antlers threw warped shadows across the walls. It would be cool on the porch, and the forecast called for a storm, but Camilla wouldn’t have it any other way. Flynn’s grandmother believed dining on the porch was the best way for first-time guests to experience the beauty of the island.

  Camilla wasn’t the only one keen on welcoming Jasper’s new girl. The smell of Norton’s fresh-baked rolls and something tangy-sweet Flynn later discovered was sour-cream coffee cake wafted through the house. When Jasper flopped down on the couch in the parlor and pulled Abella onto his lap, Flynn excused himself and went upstairs.

  “Well, I finally met the girlfriend.” Flynn dropped his overnight bag on the bedroom floor and pulled the door shut behind him. “Honestly, what does Jas see in her? She’s got the personality of a dead fish and a complexion to match.”

  Ned Yeboah sat up. He was on the bed with his long legs crossed at the ankles and an iPhone in his hand. “Girlfriend,” he repeated. “So he hasn’t done it yet.”

  “Done what?”

  “Nothing, just . . . I heard Jas might pop the question.”

  Flynn chuckled. “The day Jasper settles down is the day Nana sprouts wings and shits rainbows. Where’d you get that idea?”

  “Jade will say anything for attention, I guess.”

  “You should know better than to listen to her.” Flynn sat down on the bed and said, “You made it out early.” He’d lost track of Ned that morning, having been busy at work. The only contact they’d had all day was the pointed text Ned sent when he arrived at the river. “How’d you manage it?” Flynn asked.

  Ned shrugged. “Caught a lift with Bebe.”

  “Huh. Where were Miles and Jade?”

  “They had stuff to do before leaving the city. Bebe offered. I accepted.”

  “You should have waited for me.”

  Ned gave him a long, dull look before returning his gaze to his screen. “Your nana’s waiting,” Ned said. “Better run along.”

  Knowing Ned was right about his grandmother, Flynn made his way upstairs to see Camilla. But the strained exchange and curt good-bye would trouble him for hours.

  * * *

  —

  “How long have you been dating?” I asked when Flynn paused to roll his neck. His account suggested he and Ned weren’t getting along, but this was a one-dimensional view of a two-sided relationship.

  “Six months,” Flynn replied. “Jasper’s the one who introduced us.”

  I had a vague idea of where the Sinclairs’ fortune came from; Tim had mentioned something about fashion, which didn’t jibe with the old-money claim for me. But Flynn described Sinclair Fabrics as the largest designer drapery and upholstery outlet in the city, established by Camilla’s husband in the 1930s and managed by members of the Sinclair family ever since. When Flynn’s father died two years ago, Flynn took over the finances and Bebe was appointed CEO. Only Jasper had held out. He hadn’t joined the company until last year, when he became its director of marketing and PR.

  It was Jasper who discovered Ned—that’s the way Flynn put it, as if Ned was an unknown exoplanet or a distant star. Ned had a YouTube channel where he offered fashion tips to a few hundred thousand subscribers. It was a small audience by social media marketing standards, but apparently Jasper liked Ned’s style and felt Ned could connect with the hip young designers that composed the company’s target market. Jasper proposed a partnership, and Ned became the face of Sinclair Fabrics. His job was to produce sponsored videos that highlighted the company’s products in exchange for a yearlong contract that paid two hundred grand. If Flynn hadn’t stopped by their first video shoot to chastise Jasper for spending a fortune on a YouTube star, Flynn and Ned might never have met.

  “So you work together. You and Ned.”

  “Not directly,” said Flynn, “but we both work for the business.”

  “Sounds like joining your family’s company was a big win for him,” I said. “How’s the video stuff going? I’ve got a teenage niece who’s obsessed with YouTube. She talks about YouTubers like they’re real-life BFFs. Has Ned’s—what do you call it—follower count gone up?” I asked because I needed to find out how the arrangement was affecting Ned’s own business prospects. He was making a killing off Jasper at the moment, but his contract was half over, and the man who’d employed him was suddenly gone.

  “We have a strong brand,” Flynn said. “Associating himself with us has gotten him a lot of attention.”

  “That’s a good thing, right? More exposure for him means more exposure for you.”

  “Except Ned’s getting offers from other brands. Bigger ones.”

  Bingo. I waited.

  “He thinks we’re holding him back, if you can believe that,” Flynn said. “He got greedy is more like it. And now Ned wants to be released from his contract.”

  “And you’re not cool with that.”

  “He signed an exclusive agreement with us, so he’s legally bound to the company,” Flynn explained as I recrossed my legs and jotted more notes. “Everyone knows him as our spokesperson now. It’d be devastating for our brand if he walked away—not to mention a breach of contract.”

  “A drag for you, too, I bet. Having your hot celebrity boyfriend sashaying around the office is a hell of a job perk.”

  It was a risky thing to say. Tim and I, alone on an island full of witnesses . . . we had limited tools to work with. We needed these people to open up to us, and we had no hope of achieving that unless we gained their trust.

  Flynn fixed me with a cold glare—but he was still in the room, and I counted that as a win. “I apologize,” I said. “That was unfair.”

  “Unfair, and unoriginal. You think Ned’s my boy toy. That I dress him up and take him to lavish dinners in the city just to have a gorgeous guy on my arm. No,” Flynn said as I began to protest. “I get it. You see wealth and status and equate that with power. Why wouldn’t I take advantage of my position to woo a young YouTube star? It’s the only way a man like me could ever attract a man like Ned.”

 
Flynn squeezed the pillow in his lap harder, and the silence between us swelled like the belly of a blood-fat tick. Something about him was still making me anxious. I couldn’t suss out what it was.

  “Ned’s got a great gig with us—job security, total creative freedom. That’s far from guaranteed if he goes somewhere else. I only want the best for him. He doesn’t understand that,” said Flynn.

  Because he doesn’t feel the same way. All at once it was perfectly clear, and I couldn’t believe Flynn didn’t see it, too. It was Flynn who’d stacked those wallets on the bedroom dresser. Flynn wanted Ned to stay with Sinclair Fabrics. He thought that by arranging Ned’s life to match his own he could keep the man for himself. Preserving the company brand might have factored into his desire to keep Ned on the job, but that wasn’t what made Flynn so desperate to hold on. Everything he’d implied about the differences between the men’s looks and status and age was true. Flynn didn’t think he deserved Ned. He was afraid when Ned left the company, he’d leave Flynn, too.

  “Did you and Jasper argue with Ned yesterday?” I asked. “About his desire to quit?” An imminent breach of contract and the inevitable legal fallout, an office romance, two brothers and an unpredictable element they needed to control, and now Jasper was gone . . . the scenario spelled trouble.

  “I told you,” Flynn said, “I barely saw Jas yesterday.”

  “So it was you who did the arguing, then.”

  Flynn sighed aggressively. “Look. Ned came to the island without me. When I confronted him, he refused to talk about it and gave me the silent treatment for the rest of the day. I was pissed, okay? We didn’t fight—I just didn’t feel like being social. My in-box was flooded with messages, and work was a convenient excuse for me to be alone, so I dropped in on Nana, took my laptop to the library, and shut everyone out. If I had to guess, I’d say Ned was with Jas and Abby all afternoon. I didn’t see any of them again until cocktail hour.”

  The babble of the others lured him to the parlor then. When he stepped into the room—the same room where his family now waited while Flynn, from the comfort of his bed, walked me through the previous day—he discovered Norton was already serving drinks. Everyone was there. Bebe Sinclair (Flynn and Jasper’s sister, the middle Sinclair child) who’d opted to keep the family name. Her husband, Miles Byrd. Miles’s daughter, Jade, the teen I’d seen downstairs and the product of a previous marriage, sat on the floor by the fire (Jade Byrd: the name sounded more like a Chinatown trinket to me than a kid). Jasper, Abella, Camilla, and Ned rounded out the group, and everyone was laughing with abandon. It was something Jasper said that set them off; Flynn knew this instinctively. Storytelling was as natural as breathing to Jasper, according to Flynn.

  “What’d I miss?” Flynn asked the group, trying his best to sound cheerful. It was only five o’clock, not yet dark, but the clouds had choked the life from the sun and the rain was really coming down. The parlor was bathed in yellow lamplight and an empty crystal tumbler awaited Flynn on the table, but there was no sign of Norton. Awkwardly holding his empty glass while the others drank wine around him, Flynn sat down to wait.

  “Jas was telling the story of how he met Ned,” Abella said. “I can’t believe I never heard it—you boys have been holding out on me. Did you really mistake Jas for the gofer and ask him to get you a sandwich?”

  “I’d never met him before! I forgot to eat lunch!” Ned’s teeth flashed when he smiled, and the effect was dazzling. “You make me sound like a spoiled brat.”

  Playfully, Abella said, “If the shoe fits,” and got a round of chuckles in reply.

  “You’re in good company, Ned,” said Jasper. “Abby only likes this story because she can relate. Jas, get me a latte. Jas, grab me some water. Get me a—”

  “Stop!” She elbowed Jasper in the ribs as she took another sip of wine. When he pinched her waist, Abella wriggled like a tickled child and almost slopped her drink into his lap. “That’s not true, I swear,” she said. “This isn’t the first impression I want to make!”

  “You make a great first impression,” Ned said. “There’s no shame in loving a little attention.”

  “He should know,” said Flynn. “If anyone loves attention, it’s Ned.”

  That was a fact, but Jasper and Abella were too wrapped up in each other to acknowledge it, and Ned was still ignoring him. It irked Flynn that the three of them commanded the room like a main-stage comedy act while he played the role of spectator in the cheap seats.

  When Norton finally appeared he was carrying a bottle of Johnnie Walker and more chardonnay, along with a cup of ice. Flynn was first to hold up his glass, but Norton went straight to Abella.

  “Ice in wine?” she said as he plucked up a cube with silver tongs. “Is this an American thing?”

  “This bottle could be colder,” said Norton as he dropped the ice into her glass. “This’ll help.”

  “I don’t care if the scotch comes from a kettle, bring it the fuck over here,” said Flynn. From her place by the fire, Jade giggled as Norton finally made his way over to Flynn.

  “Language,” Camilla warned in her creaky voice, and smoothed the blanket draped over her lap. “Now, here’s an idea. Why doesn’t Abby work for us?”

  Bebe snorted. “To keep Jas in line? Lord knows he needs it.”

  “To help him,” said Camilla. “Well, why not?”

  The guests fell silent.

  “She does have PR experience,” Miles said thoughtfully, smiling at the couple. “And you already know you work well together.”

  “You see? It’s perfect.” Camilla reached out to take Abella’s hand. “You’re all so busy, you always say so,” she told her three grandchildren. “I’m sure you could use another sharp mind.”

  “Oh my God,” said Abella. “I mean, I’d love to, of course!” Flynn watched her closely, took in her red face and the slur in her speech. Nice, he thought. First time meeting the family, and the girl gets shitfaced.

  “It’s an idea,” said Bebe, “but—”

  “What do you think, Jas?” said Miles.

  “Might cramp my style, what with all my office affairs.” Jasper grinned as Abella rolled her eyes. “You might be onto something, Nana.”

  “No more for her,” said Miles sharply, his sudden change in tone at odds with the happy atmosphere. Norton had taken the new bottle of wine around the room and come to Jade. The girl held up her glass for her share, but Norton hesitated.

  “Aw, let her have it,” said Jasper. “It’s just a little wine.”

  “She’s fourteen,” said Miles. “One is enough.”

  “Come on, man, it’s a special occasion.” Jasper winked at Jade and her cheeks went pink. The kid was well on her way to joining Abella in her drunken haze.

  “You’re such a killjoy, Miles,” said Bebe.

  “You can give her some of mine, it’s mostly water,” said Camilla. “This job idea. Promise you’ll all talk it over. I would hate for Abella to have to go.”

  “No one’s going anywhere,” said Miles, nodding at the window. “Have you seen the forecast for tomorrow? This is going to be one hell of a storm.”

  “Welcome to the family,” Jasper said, kissing Abella’s neck. “Looks like you’re stuck with us.”

  Abella tried and failed to suppress a hiccup and raised her glass to toast the room. “Fine by me. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  * * *

  —

  “Forgive me,” I said, “but I don’t see it.”

  I’d have bet a month’s salary Flynn was going to paint Abella as a murderous vixen prone to fits of rage. Instead, he’d described a girl with every reason to stay on Jasper’s good side. The couple seemed to care for each other. Camilla liked Abella so much she wanted to give her a job with the family business.

  “Don’t you get it?” said Flynn. “She needs Jas, and t
he feeling isn’t mutual. There’s no way he’d hire her. She’s just a fling.”

  “But he brought her all this way to meet the family. Norton prepped for days. Ned’s under the impression they’re getting engaged.”

  “Ned repeated a rumor he heard from Jade, a kid who stirs shit up just for laughs. Abby—or Bella, or whatever her name is—is a fuck buddy, nothing more. She may be the first girl to come here, but we’ve met dozens of Jasper’s girlfriends in the city. We used to do a family dinner once a month at some of the best restaurants in Manhattan, and he brought a different woman every time. Abella’s not his one and only. She’s just the only one who realized she’s being used.”

  The implication was Abella wanted more than Jasper was willing to give. As far as motives for murder go, I thought, it was weak. “You don’t do that anymore? Get together as a family?”

  “It was our mother who organized those dinners. So no,” Flynn said bitterly. “We don’t.”

  Two years since the death of their parents meant two years without family get-togethers. It wasn’t as if Bebe, Flynn, Jasper, and Camilla couldn’t have kept up the tradition. That left me wondering if there was another reason the siblings no longer made an effort to catch up.

  “And you didn’t hear anything last night?” I confirmed, remembering Norton and Camilla’s insistence that nothing happened after dark. “Voices maybe, or loud noises? Seems like you might not have slept so well, given what’s going on with Ned.”

  Flynn bristled. “I’ll tell you what I heard. I heard perfect little Abella stumbling around drunk in the hall.”

  “How do you know it was her?”

  “What?”

  “How do you know it was Abella you heard and not Jasper, or somebody else?”

  He hesitated. “There was a fight. I heard them shouting.”

  “What time was this?”

  “Late, past midnight. Abella must have left the room to use the bathroom afterward. I didn’t hear anything else.”

  Outside, the wind whistled and wailed. Last night past midnight the storm was already in full swing, and I had a hard time understanding how Flynn could be sure of what—or who—he’d heard. I got to my feet. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Sinclair. I’m going to need you downstairs now.”