The thing about Sybil is she’s tough as nails. I have no doubt she’ll find her path, but it feels as if I should be with her. From the age of twelve, I can count on one hand the number of times we were apart for longer than a few weeks.
After we met in Hawaii, her father arranged for Sybil to attend Prescott Academy, the college preparatory boarding school we attended. We went from that summer in Hawaii to surviving seventh grade together.
It physically hurts to be separated from Sybil for this long.
“And how are you going to get by his surveillance cameras?”
“I built this for you.” Mitzy holds out her hand, which draws my attention back to the interior of the car.
Perched on her hand is a tiny drone. Made of something reflective—or see through?—its features are difficult to make out. My eyes slip over its shape. That’s the only word I have to describe it.
“What is that?” I lean forward, pinching my eyes to make sense of what I’m seeing.
“It’s a new drone prototype.” Mitzy holds the tiny thing in the palm of her hand.
“Makes my eyes cross.” I blink, thinking that will clear up what I’m seeing. It doesn’t. If anything, I’m more confused. It’s there and yet not there.
“I’m trying out a new photo-optic material.”
“Photo-what?”
“Visual camouflage. The skin has light-bending properties. I reached out to some of my Canadian friends who are working on an invisibility shield.”
“You’re kidding, right?” No way did Mitzy tell me she’s cloaking a drone, making it invisible, but my eyes don’t lie.
“Well, it’s not enough to fool the human eye. You can kind of see it, but it’s hard to make out what it is. For video surveillance systems, however, it’s nearly invisible.” Mitzy lets me hold the drone.
With my hands to help me see, I trace out the contours of a tiny drone.
“What is it for?”
“While you’re at brunch tomorrow with your mother, hopefully, the drone will make a circuit of your uncle’s house.”
“Wow. I assume while it does that it will tap into whatever security they have?” I really don’t see how a drone can tap into a security system, but I’m a Hotelly, not an engineer.
“Not necessarily their security systems. I’m looking for servers.”
“Servers?”
“Computer servers.” Mitzy sits back while I transfer the tiny drone to Liam.
Like me, he lifts it up, trying to get a better look at it.
“Maria, if you don’t mind, I have a few questions for you.”
“For me?” I point to my chest.
“Yes.” Mitzy glances at Forest, who inclines his head, giving her the go-ahead. “What do you know about your father’s death?”
That is not the question I expect. My fingers curl around Liam’s hand.
“It’s been years, what do you want to know.”
“I’ve been looking into it and there’s not much.”
“I’m not surprised. As I understand it, he had a heart attack.” My comment draws Forest back to the conversation.
He leans forward, intent gaze pinning me in place. “Why do you say it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Instead of stating that he had a heart attack, you said As I understand it.” He takes in a breath and blows it out nice and slow. “I’m curious as to your choice of words.”
“I didn’t mean anything cryptic. I wasn’t there. Sybil and I were at Cornell when it happened. My mother called and gave me the news.” I pause, letting Forest and Mitzy’s words sink in. In the brief time I’ve known them, the one thing I’ve learned is no question is simple. They’re looking for something.
Not wanting to make them dig, I give them everything I know.
“At the time, my father had several offices. He was a workaholic. Mother told him he needed to slow down, that he worked too hard.” As the words come, my memory opens up like a book, and I see things from a different perspective.
“He had offices in New York, where most of his business was conducted, and of course, he had the Belvedere down here. He spent most of his time in New York, but I think that was so that he could stay close to me. Whenever we had time, most weekends in fact, he flew Sybil and me down to the Hamptons. Didn’t matter if it was summer or the middle of the winter.”
“Why do you think that was?”
“At the time, I thought it was me, and that’s probably the truth of it. My parents weren’t exactly getting along. They rarely fought, at least where I could hear, but they didn’t spend much time together either. In the winter, my mother never joined us at the Hamptons.”
“Did she stay in New York?”
“She did not.” A funny feeling comes over me. “As a matter of fact, she came down here. That was one of the few times my mother and father were both in New Orleans. He was down here for about a week, then flew back to the Hamptons. For whatever reason, my mother returned with him.”
“Was that unusual?”
“For them it was. Like I said, their relationship was … strained. Anyhow, they went to the Hamptons together. It was a day or two later that my father suffered a massive heart attack.”
“And your mother didn’t call you?”
“We were in the middle of prelims.” At the confused look on Liam’s face, I explain. “That’s what we call mid-semester exams at Cornell. I guess she didn’t want his death to affect my grades. She called me the next day. Sybil and I flew out that night.”
“It was a quick funeral.” Mitzy rubs the side of her nose. “A cremation?”
“Yes. My mother is a monster planner, and with it being so close to her infamous holiday parties, she wanted it done and over.”
“I wondered about the cremation considering his religious views.”
“I don’t know what to say about that. I figured he and Mother discussed it.”
“There was never an autopsy.” Mitzy glances at Forest.
“Is that abnormal?”
“Typically, deaths at home are an automatic coroner’s case. The cause of death needs to be established. I found it unusual that didn’t happen in this case.” Mitzy’s voice holds a lot of unasked questions.
“Like I said, it never seemed strange to me. We went to the Hamptons and had a small funeral.”
“And a year later your mother and uncle get married.” Forest drums his fingers on his knee.
“Like I said, my uncle swore if anything happened to my father that he would take care of both my mother and me.”
“Were you aware they were high school sweethearts?” Mitzy lobs that into the middle of the conversation, throwing me for a loop.
“Excuse me?” My brows pinch with confusion. “My mother and father dated in high school. He was a year older and had to wait a year before they could get married.”
“Not your mother and father. I’m talking about your uncle and your mother.” Mitzy keeps staring at me, like she’s testing me.
“What about them?” If this is a test, I’m failing at it.
“They dated during high school.” Mitzy’s words make no sense.