“Situation?” Camilla repeated. “You saw that bed. Someone tried to kill my grandson.”

“I assure you, we’re all on the same page about that.”

The lounging woman snorted. “I sincerely doubt we’re on the same page about anything. My grandmother is very upset. Who do I need to call to get someone from the city out here?”

To this elegant woman, mainland towns like Alexandria Bay had nothing in common with Tern. Owning an island was like erecting a sweeping, vine-draped manor in the sticks of Arkansas. The river served as a convenient barrier between the haves and the have-nots, and a public reminder of the Sinclair family’s worth. Tim and I didn’t meet their standards, not by a long shot. I smiled at her, sweet as candy-shop fudge, and said, “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Barbara Sinclair—Bebe. Jasper’s my brother.”

Not was, but is. Her choice of words didn’t mean she knew he was alive, or even that she believed it, but it was interesting all the same. Past tense can be hard for people; I know parents of children lost decades ago who still can’t bring themselves to use it. I’ve also seen it give murderers away. Other than parents most people are quick to adjust, while criminals tend to overthink it. They play the part of the suffering martyr, thinking they know what grief looks like. They don’t, though. Until fear and sorrow smother you like a burial shroud, you have no idea how you’re going to react, can’t understand that you’re powerless to change it.

“This isn’t going to be easy, on any of you,” I said. “I won’t pretend otherwise. What I will do is promise not to make it more painful than it needs to be. As you can see”—I shot a sideways glance at Tim—“it’s just the two of us here right now. We’ve got other troopers on the way, but with the weather like this I can’t say when they’ll arrive. In the meantime, there are some things that have to happen, things that can’t be delayed.”

In the hearth, a log shifted with a thump and the scent of woodsmoke swirled through the air. All eyes stayed on me. The dark-skinned man was busy stroking Abella’s hand, but his eyebrows hovered expectantly. Our witnesses could sense it coming, a request they wouldn’t be able to refuse.

“I’m going to interview each of you about what happened here last night,” I said. “I want you to tell me everything you remember, no matter how insignificant it may seem. This is going to take some time. As Wellington already explained, we’re asking that you turn off your mobile devices and refrain from contacting anyone outside this room.”

“But why?”

How is it that teen girls are capable of infusing two small words with so much loathing? The kid on the couch looked at me like I’d just told her she wasn’t allowed to breathe.

“For one thing,” I said, “we’re still trying to determine what happened. It’s in nobody’s best interest to start a gossip chain that could spread false information to your neighbors and friends. For another, there may come a time when we need to take a look at those devices. We won’t do that unless we suspect they contain evidence related to this investigation, but until then, we need the information on them to remain untouched and intact.”