“Ned and Abby were friends. Ned and Jasper, too,” said Bebe, keen to protect her lover. “If someone let the boats go that means someone wants us stranded here. But why?”
Flynn began to laugh. It started as a chortle, the intensity building until his voice boomed through the room. When he was done he wiped his eyes and tapped the ashes from his cigarette onto the coffee table. “Guilty,” he said with a shrug. “It was me. I let the boats go free.”
Tim and I swapped glances. We hadn’t been back to the boathouse all day. The boats could have disappeared hours ago. Other than Norton, Flynn alone hadn’t come to the parlor when Tim asked him to that morning. He could have slipped outside while I conducted my search of the house. He had plenty of time to make it to the boats and back.
“Care to explain?” Tim said.
“It’s simple. My boyfriend was threatening to leave me,” Flynn said. “He abandoned me in the city yesterday morning, and when I finally caught up with him here, he completely blew me off. I knew the next time Ned went somewhere without me he wasn’t coming back, and I had a hunch it wasn’t going to be all snuggles by the fire this weekend. Obviously, I was right—and it worked out perfectly, because now there’s plenty of time to explain why he’s fucking my sister.”
My eyes went straight to Camilla. Bebe’s desperate pleas to Miles in the library made it sound as if learning about the affair would kill Camilla on the spot. We didn’t need another dead body on our hands. If Camilla heard what Flynn said, it didn’t register. Quiet now, she stared absently at the blackened embers in the hearth.
In fact, no one spoke as Flynn’s eyes traveled the room. “Ahh,” he said slowly. “I see how it is. Everyone knew but me.”
Standing in the doorway, I tapped the toe of my wet boot on the floor. After talking to Ned I’d been fairly sure Flynn was our man. He and Bebe might have collaborated on the plan, but Flynn did all the heavy lifting. If he was the killer, though, why rob himself of his only escape from Tern Island? A visit to the boathouse earlier meant he could have taken off before we even knew he existed. Why stick around?
The man was entirely focused on outing Bebe and Ned. It was obvious he knew about the affair—but how? Flynn’s analysis appeared to be right; based on their reaction, everyone save maybe Camilla was already aware of Bebe’s tryst. So how had Flynn discovered it, and when?
It had been ages since that first interview in Flynn’s bedroom, but I probed my memory for a sign he’d known then. The conversation Flynn had with Ned when he got to the island suggested he had his suspicions. He’d questioned Ned’s decision to travel with Bebe, and noted his lover’s evasive response. Now, though, he was certain. Between yesterday and today something settled it.
On Flynn’s neck ropy veins rose up from the skin, bloated to bursting with fury and humiliation. This discovery was fresh, his emotions unprocessed. Someone had told him recently. Possibly within the hour.
I scanned the faces in the room. Next to her father, Jade was doing her best to hide hers. It was she who disclosed Jasper’s proposal plan to Ned. She’d told Miles, and possibly also Jasper, about seeing Ned and Bebe enter the shed. There was little for a girl Jade’s age to do in a place like this, especially during a storm. She hadn’t been texting or calling her friends, which meant that something else had occupied her time during the countless hours she’d spent in the parlor with her father’s wife’s eccentric family. And now Flynn was smoking one of her cigarettes.
I had to wonder whether Jade could even begin to comprehend the enormity of what she’d done. In a way, it was a shame Miles was leaving Bebe. When it came to the Sinclairs, Jade fit right in.
“Flynn,” Bebe said, glancing at Camilla once more. “Not now. Not like this.”
“How then, Bebe? Back in the city? At work? Does everyone there know, too? The irony is perfection, and you don’t even see it. I’m guilty,” he said. “And not just of releasing a couple of boats. But you know what, sis? So are you.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Bebe said quickly, to no one and everyone. “He’s out of his mind. My brother would never hurt Jasper.”
“Hurt him? I ruined him,” said Flynn. “Jasper, Nana, even you.”
It wasn’t a confession of murder, but Flynn was admitting to something. Looking at the shirtless brute reclining in his buttery navy moccasins made me furious. “Spill it,” I said. “If you were involved in what happened to Jasper, or Abella, or anything else linked to this investigation, tell us. Right now.”
“Flynn,” Bebe said. Her tone was dangerous, but it made Flynn smile. He liked watching her suffer. Enjoyed the suspense. This was his big moment, and he relished it.
“My darling sister. What I’m guilty of is tax evasion on a scale you couldn’t possibly imagine.” Flynn watched as Bebe went pale. Tipped back his dark head, and laughed some more. “We’ve got dear old Dad to thank for laying the groundwork for us. He was hiding money in the Caribbean. That’s why he was always in Antigua. He kept a bank account down there, fattened it up real nice. It’s not enough to bail us out, unfortunately. Not even close.”
Bebe’s skin had turned the color of raw river fish. “No. No, I would have known. It isn’t true.”
“Don’t feel bad you didn’t spot it, you were a little distracted,” said Flynn. Ned, when Flynn looked at him, pressed his lips together and said nothing. “I couldn’t pay the taxes, you see, not without tipping off the IRS, so I kept doing what Dad did, thinking I could fix it in time. Well, guess what? Time’s up. I got a call the other day. There’s going to be an audit. It’s all coming out. Not paying our employees? All those bills you’ve been ignoring? That was nothing. This is so much worse.”
Bebe shook her head. “But I didn’t know.”
“You’re the fucking CEO. I didn’t report it. But neither did you. We’re in this together—as far as the IRS is concerned, you’re just as guilty as me. I’m going to jail. And I’m taking you with me.”
Dumbfounded, Bebe stammered, “But I’m your sister.”
“Yes. Yes, you are. But what does that mean, really? Family’s just a collection of people who happen to be bound by blood. I don’t owe you anything. Not you, and not anyone else.”
“Jasper,” I said. “Did he know?”
“He knew enough not to hand over his inheritance when we asked for it. If he had, it would be long gone by now.” Flynn nodded in his grandmother’s direction. “Nana’s money, too. That bastard always was smarter than me. I hope he burns in hell.”
Flynn’s hair had fallen into his eyes. He threw back his head the way Bram used to and jutted out his chin, one last-ditch attempt at pride. The similarity between them in that moment sickened me, but it also made my limbs rigid and ready. “Sinclair Fabrics would have been seventy-five years old next year, did you know that?” Flynn said. “We were going to have a party. It was Nana’s idea—wasn’t it, Nana? Picked a date and everything. I hope to God you die soon,” he said under his breath, his gaze on his grandmother and his mouth on the rim of his glass. “I’d really hate to disappoint you.”