As I studied the room, a niggling itch formed at the back of my throat. I took a head count. Nine on the island, Tim had said, including Jasper. Norton stood at attention by the living room door. That left seven. There were five people seated, plus the man by the window. Someone was missing.

“Wellington,” I said. “A word?”

Tim followed me into the foyer as the others looked on, and brought his head close to mine. “How’s it look up there?” he asked. The movement was minuscule, nothing our witnesses would notice from a distance, but I felt him rock on his feet. Whether he was keen to hear what I’d found out or nervous, I didn’t know.

“Messy,” I said. “There’s enough blood to fill a kiddie pool. If Jasper’s still alive, he won’t be for long.”

“Really?” Tim looked shocked. He dropped his gaze to the burnished floorboards. “Wow,” he said eventually. “Gotta say, I wasn’t expecting that. You thinking drugs?”

How did Abella sleep through the stabbing? How did Jasper’s attacker get him out of a second-floor bedroom without a fight? “Could be,” I said. “Nothing visible in the drawers or luggage, but we’ll see what forensics says.”

“So the guy took a knife to the gut and disappeared.”

“Looks that way. There’s no easy escape route to the ground. The house is all clear and in order, except there’s a room upstairs that’s locked.”

“That would be Jasper’s older brother, Flynn Sinclair. I tried to round him up while you were with Camilla, but he’s refusing to leave his room. I nearly had the same problem with the kid.” He cut a glance at the gorgeous teen on the couch. “She belongs to Miles Byrd—middle-aged guy with the hipster glasses,” he said. “Her dad seemed impressed I was able to coax her down here at all. I’m sure she’s dying to get back to her busy schedule of Snapchatting and brooding.”

“You told them not to use their phones, right?”

Tim nodded. “First thing.”

“Good. We don’t need folks getting the media all keyed up before we have a handle on the case.” McIntyre liked to talk about the era before cell phones, when it took hours for news of a crime to circulate in town and days to reach the rest of the county. Now witnesses could take a murder public in seconds. McIntyre’s good old days were my Shangri-la.

Tim chewed his lip. “No ETA on the Watertown team, and these people are getting antsy, Shane. I’m not sure how long I can keep them in the parlor.”

“The parlor?” I repeated, amused. “How posh.” Nodding at the ceiling, I said, “Guess that settles it. The first interview goes to Flynn.” Frankly, I was a little disappointed. My chat with Jasper’s girlfriend would have to wait. At the same time, I was eager to get to know Jasper’s family, these people who’d allowed one of their own to disappear. Behind us, a man cleared his throat. “Tell them to get comfortable,” I said, taking a step toward the room. “It’s going to be a long day.”