Placing Jade’s phone on the floor along with my notebook, belt, cuffs, flashlight, and gun, I struggled out of my wet clothes. I’d bought myself some time, and Bebe couldn’t be bothered to help Jade reclaim her device, but how long would it be before Jade told her dad I took it? I had no right to hold that phone. When Jade found that out it would be gone. I’d have to sneak away again before that happened.

“I have a confession,” Camilla said.

My head snapped up. “You do?”

“Yes. I have my own reasons for bringing you up here. I’d like you to tell me what you found out about Jasper’s disappearance. In private.”

“Oh.” Crap. “Well, Wellington and I are still—”

“Please. Don’t toe the line and tell me you can’t reveal what you’ve learned. My grandson was attacked. He’s been missing for hours. The time for decorum is done.”

“I’m not being evasive,” I said. “I need to speak with everyone in the house before I can draw any conclusions.” My wet clothes made a slapping sound when they hit the floor. “I will say, Mrs. Sinclair, that everyone I’ve interviewed so far has a different theory. I’d love to know yours.”

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.