Page 42 of Death in the Family
Ned ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. “There was a fight,” he said in a tight voice. “Last night.”
“Right. Upstairs.”Loud voices after midnight.
His forehead puckered. “No. That was Miles and Bebe.”
It was the first time he’d spoken her name. I watched carefully but his expression didn’t change. “Miles and Bebe?”
“Arguing in their room.”
“Are you saying there was another fight? Somewhere else?”
“Outside.” Ned cocked his head. “You didn’t know?”
I felt my cheeks get hot. I’d told him I knew everything worth knowing.
“I thought,” Ned said, “maybe Flynn...”
“Lucky you. You get to be the one to fill me in. Who was involved in this fight?” I said. “You and Flynn?”
“No. Flynn and Jasper.”
Remembering Flynn’s knuckles, battered and bruised, made my chest seize up.Got in a fight with his brother and took off. Hadn’t that been Tim’s theory from the start? “What happened?”
Ned’s face went from pained to resolute. Somewhere in the span of a few seconds he’d made the decision to betray someone. In the gloomy half-light of the room there was a cruel curl to his lip. “Abby wasn’t the only one who had too much to drink last night. Flynn got lit and laid into Jas. He hit him.”
“Flynn physically assaulted his brother last night.” I blinked at Ned. “I’ve talked to every person in this house and not one of them mentioned this.”
Ned lowered his voice another notch. “That’s because theydon’t know. It was after dinner, late. Everyone was in bed. The only person we saw afterward was Norton. He was in the kitchen when we came inside. I told him Jas tripped in the yard.”
“Why?” I asked. “Did Jasper ask you to cover it up? Or were you trying to protect Flynn?”
“Neither,” he said, and looked away. Earlier, when I’d interviewed Bebe and Miles, I’d caught them exchanging a conspiratorial glance. Old habits die hard, and I suspected that maxim applied to Ned’s loyalty to Flynn as well.
“Okay,” I said, wondering if Ned could hear the light-speed rhythm of my heart. “Back up. Walk me through this.”
He exhaled and wiped his brow. “Dinner was over. We went out back to smoke a joint and Flynn followed us. Started in on Jasper.”
It would have been pouring by then. That explained the dried mud on Flynn’s, Ned’s, and Jasper’s shoes. Before long, I had enough details to envision the scene. Jasper and his older brother breathing hard, locked in a struggle in the storm. Ned forcing his way between them, but not before Flynn split open Jasper’s lower lip. When Ned got to that part of the narrative, my mind jumped back to our crime scene. There was no way a split lip could have caused the stain on the mattress, but it did clarify the source of the blood on Jasper’s pillowcase.
Abella went to sleep early, drunk and alone. She didn’t wake when Jasper came to bed, so she didn’t know about his bloody lip or the fight. The only other person who did was Flynn, and he’d deliberately hidden his knuckles from me. Flynn wasn’t stupid. If he’d told me from the start that he gave his brother a thrashing mere hours before Jasper went missing, the day would have gone a lot differently for him.
I asked Ned where Flynn went after the fight, but he didn’t know. “I slept down here last night.” He nodded at the library’s leather couch. “I didn’t want to see him.”
“You haven’t told me what they were fighting about.”
“Money. It’s always money with Flynn. He told Jasper he can forget about Abby coming to work for the company, no matter what Camilla says. There isn’t enough to pay her. Hell, there’s barely enough to pay me.”
“That’s why you’re leaving. Better opportunities, bigger paychecks.”
“I’m leaving,” said Ned irritably, “because I know I’m about to get hosed.”
“But Flynn wants you to stay.”
“Flynn doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. He thinks I’ll work for nothing. ‘I’ll support you,’ he says. ‘I’ll take care of you’.” Ned balled his hands. “I’m not his fucking pet.”
I could see how Camilla’s suggestion that Sinclair Fabrics should hire Abella would leave Flynn enraged. His boyfriend was leaving because the business offered no long-term prospects, but Jasper’s girlfriend was deserving of a corner office? Sinclair Fabrics was floundering, and Flynn was at serious risk of losing Ned. Throw in a few glasses of scotch and Flynn had to be out of his mind. “What else did Flynn say?”
Again Ned rubbed his thighs. There was always a beat of hesitation before he spoke, as if he was grappling with what to divulge. “That Jas isn’t doing his part.”
