The curled-under ends of Camilla’s wig shivered as she breathed. “There was a man here yesterday. A trapper Philip hired. He thinks we have a problem with mink.”
I pulled on the pants, listening closely. “Norton—Philip—mentioned that. Do you think that man has something to do with this?”
“Philip’s convinced he does. I trust his judgment. I wish my family did as well.”
“You seem to think highly of him. Philip, I mean.”
“Oh, absolutely. Philip is a dear friend, I don’t know where I’d be without him.” She thought for a moment and shook her head. “But if he’s right and Jasper was kidnapped, shouldn’t there be a ransom note demanding money?”
“You’d think so, but it’s early. Could be a demand’s still coming.” I tried to sound convincing. Some years ago, I came across a public survey that showed four in ten Americans would murder someone for money. Forty fucking percent. Still, it was a struggle for me to resist offering my condolences on her grandson’s death. This didn’t feel like a ransom situation. “It’s true that where there’s money, there’s usually someone who wants to take it.”
Camilla sniffed. “They’re a little late.”
I fumbled with the buttons on my newly acquired dress shirt. Let my gaze travel over the sumptuous room. “I’m not sure I understand, ma’am.”
“I suppose it will come out eventually,” Camilla said, lifting her chin. “The business isn’t doing well. Not well at all.”
“Sinclair Fabrics? Is this a recent development?”
“I believe things started to go downhill two years ago.”
“When Flynn and Bebe took over?”
“When Baldwin and Rachel passed. It isn’t entirely Flynn and Bebe’s fault. The American textile market isn’t what it used to be,” Camilla said, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced.
My mind went back to the boathouse and Loophole, the conspicuously missing yacht. I hated to do it, but I had to ask. “Exactly how are your finances looking?”
She’d been expecting this question. “I have a little money set aside. And I still have my island.”
The way she said it, the multimillion-dollar estate might have been a crisp fifty pulled from a birthday card. “When your son and daughter-in-law passed away, what happened to their fortune?”
“It went to the children, of course.”
“Flynn, Bebe, and Jasper. So Jasper has some savings?”
“Oh, most certainly,” Camilla said. “He’s very careful about his finances. He’ll be absolutely fine.”
Of course he will, I thought. To you, Jasper’s perfect in every way. “Has he ever had to borrow money from anyone? An acquaintance, maybe?”
“Not Jasper. Jasper’s very responsible.”
“What about loaning money to someone else?”
“Not that I know of, no.”
“Earlier,” I said, “what did you mean when you said he deserves better?”
If Abella was sincere, I could guess Camilla’s answer. Jasper had a brute for a brother and his sister was a heartless shrew. Still, the noise of the storm dropped away as I waited for the woman’s response. “It hasn’t been easy for Jasper, growing up with Bebe and Flynn. The age difference has always been a problem. They side against him. Poor Jasper is never included. Oh, he doesn’t let that stop him from doing what he wants—he’s a very determined person—but it often leads to jealousy.”
“Sounds like a lot of siblings I know.”
“It doesn’t help that he’s so accomplished,” she said. “Things come more easily to Jasper than the others, in everything. It puts a strain on their relationship, those three, especially now that they work together.”
“That’s fairly new, isn’t it? Jasper joining the business?”
“He came on to help them last year.”
I returned the phone and my things to my pockets and holstered my gun. Between the burn and the bulky gauze it wasn’t a painless task. “How’s that going?” I asked.
She hesitated. “It’s been a challenge. He has a lot of cleaning up to do. I’m as eager to see the business bounce back as anyone, but it isn’t Jasper’s duty to make things right when he had nothing to do with them going wrong.” Again Camilla paused thoughtfully. “Do you know how old I am? On my next birthday, I’ll be ninety-two. I’ve had a fair amount of life, wouldn’t you say?”
“We should all be so lucky.”
Her laugh was dark. “It isn’t luck that got me here. I worked hard for what I have, and I expect the same exertion from my family. But I’ve learned there’s more to life than padding your bank account. Money comes and money goes. Jasper knows that. It’s why I’m so happy to see him with Abella. She’s lovely, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure she is.”
“Let me tell you something I told Jasper,” she said. “Whatever happens in this life, you have to put your own needs first. There may come a day when you wake up and discover you’ve been pressed into a mold. You’re stuck.”
“Stuck how?”
“Stuck is stuck. And when something is stuck, Detective Merchant, what do you do? You apply force. Forge a path to your own destiny.” She gave a small shrug. “It’s really the only way.”
I had a million more questions for this woman with her sphinx-like riddles, but before I could ask them, Camilla turned. “All set? Ah. That looks like a fit to me.”
The fabric was uncomfortably tight over my hips, the pants several inches too short. On me, Camilla’s button-down shirt insisted on playing a game of peek-a-boob. “They’re perfect, thanks,” I said. “When you say you need to apply force—”
“You should get back downstairs. Would you mind,” she asked feebly, “if I stayed? I think I should lie down for a while. It’s been a day.”
I didn’t point out there was much more day to come. The woman looked worn to the bone. The idea of leaving her didn’t sit right, but neither did herding her back down those stairs. After Bram, Carson helped me learn to manage my emotions, but I’ve always worried I might be too ruthless and uncaring now. To do my job well I needed to feel. So I disregarded the voice in my head and reminded myself this was an elderly woman under a lot of stress.
“Of course. Stay,” I said.
“Thank you.” Camilla nodded at the wet clothes under my arm. “Give those to Philip. He’ll take care of them. Anything you need, just ask Philip.”