Page 40 of Death in the Family
Norton’s eyes widened. “Who told you?”
“Bebe. Cancer, huh?”
He dropped his gaze and nodded.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “She talks about you like you’re family. Got any family of your own around here?”
“Not locally.”
“Never been married?”
“Nope.”
“No kids?”
Norton shifted his weight around in his seat. “I didn’t say that.”
“I saw a picture in your bedroom. You and a little boy.”
He nodded. “That’s my son. His mama and I were real young when he was born. He doesn’t live around here. Never did.”
“Ah.” It was a tale of woe I’d heard a million times before, and it instantly changed the way I felt about Philip Norton. I pictured him in his teens, telling his baby mama he couldn’t raise a kid because he was still a kid himself. “This place must feel like home to you, then.”
“Two decades is a long time.” The whites of his eyes were alarmingly bright surrounded by all that pink skin. “I’ve seen some things over these years, you know?”
“Have you?”
“You wouldn’t believe it. One spring? I got out here and found a deer and her fawn.” He said it fondly. The memory made Norton smile.
“On the island?” I remembered the long ride from the mainland. “But how?”
“They swam! I had to chase ’em off, of course. Can’t have a deer invasion. But it was something, watching those deer swim back to shore.”
I waited for Camilla to factor into the story, but she didn’t. “Will you stay on, do you think? When Mrs. Sinclair passes?”
Norton seemed unsure how to answer. “With the grandchildren, who knows what’ll happen. It’s not the place it used to be, never will be again. And I guess I’ll need to retire one of these days.”
“Got enough money saved up for that?”
“She’s always paid me well. I should be all right.” Again Norton rapped the wooden doorframe with his knuckles for luck. “What about that trapper? You get anywhere with him?”
“Sounds like he’s got an alibi.”
Norton grunted. “Guess I should get started on that dinner.”
“Right,” I said, watching him go, feeling my gaze pull magnet-like back to Ned, and the girlfriend Jasper left behind.
EIGHTEEN
Back in the parlor, I took a minute to read the room. The fug that hung over the guests earlier was gone, replaced with a kinetic buzz. They spoke in pairs with low voices, flicking furtive glances my way.
Tim wasn’t getting the same treatment. Sitting quietly on an ottoman in the corner, he’d managed to make them comfortable with his presence. Soon our witnesses might even forget he was there. As I watched him smiling passively at the room, I thought about what Carson said.Not a good person. Huh. Tim had a knack for blending in, and he wasn’t big on socializing. I really didn’t know much about him at all.
Ned pulled a chair next to Abella, who had given in to her despair and was weeping softly into her hands. Miles and Jade were still on the couch, while Bebe and Flynn stood by the fire,their backs to the room. With every hour that passed, our witnesses were growing more restless. Lines were being drawn, alliances established—or maybe that was all an illusion. Maybe on this forsaken island it was every man for himself.
I took a step toward Ned. He was whispering to Abella again, and I heard him say, “We’ll find him, baby. Hush, now. I’m here.” At the sound of his voice, Bebe swiveled her head and watched from the corner of one smoky eye as Ned stroked the girl’s matted hair. Ned was the only person I hadn’t interviewed, the only one left. It was a matter of convenience and timing, but now that I took stock of the way his gaze darted from face to face, his mechanical movements, I feared I’d made a mistake. Ned was a wild card. He’d caught a ride into the family with Jasper, found a permanent place with Flynn, and traded him for Bebe. The Sinclair siblings were flavors of ice cream and Ned was working his way through the freezer. No matter how Jasper felt about his older brother and sister, I didn’t think he’d approve. If Ned thought Jasper knew he’d swapped lovers, he might have been scared yesterday. And fear’s right up there with anger and jealousy as the emotions that cause people to kill.
“Mr. Yeboah,” I said casually, like I was looking for a friendly chat. Fear also turns men into liars, and I didn’t want to alarm Ned, not yet.
