“Mr. Arlington, I’m not a detective.” Griff was being as gentle as he could, but that was the truth. He wasn’t equipped to solve a murder. He covered crime stories, he didn’t solve crimes. The fact that he held the solution to the mystery that had haunted the Arlingtons for two decades was partly luck and partly his own grotesque involvement. “I want to help, but we’ve got to let the police handle this.”
Jarrett’s fingers tightened and Griff shut up. Jarrett’s colorless lips moved. “I want the truth. I don’t care how painful. I have to know.”
“I know. I’ll help any way I can.” But Griff couldn’t help seeing that even part of the truth was liable to be too much of a shock.
Beneath half-closed eyes, Jarrett was watching him. There was a fierce spark in his drugged gaze. “You were willing to find out what happened at the beginning. There’s a reason you’re here at the end.”
Griff nodded mechanically.
Jarrett coughed and wet his lips. “It’s full circle. You wanted the story. It’s yours.”
“I didn’t want...” He stopped again at the fierce press of Jarrett’s clammy fingers.
“It’s yours. It’s your story. Find out for me what really happened.”
Griff compromised, “I’ll do whatever I can.”
“Good. You’re a good boy.” Jarrett closed his eyes. “You remind me...”
He was sleeping again. Griff carefully freed himself and went out into the hall. He felt shaken. That had been much harder than he expected.
The door to the private room opened and Michaela followed him into the antiseptic-smelling hall. She looked nearly as ill as her father. Her eyes were red-rimmed and there were lines carved into her face.
She said, keeping her voice low, “If you really want to be of use, tell Pierce to make sure the police don’t arrest Chloe. He’s not answering my calls.”
“Are they really looking at Chloe as a suspect?”
“Thanks to my sister, yes. Last night I thought they would arrest Marcus, but after Muriel told them Chloe threatened Brian, they seem to be focusing on Chloe.”
“Where is she now?”
“She’s being questioned by Nassau P.D. Ring is with her. I can’t leave Daddy. Muriel is...” She didn’t finish the thought.
Griff watched her expression. “What do you think happened last night?”
Despite her exhaustion, anger blazed in Michaela’s eyes. “How should I know?”
“If the only thing the police have on Chloe is an argument before the party, that’s not much.”
“Of course that’s all they have! There isn’t anything else. She didn’t do it.”
Griff suggested, “Maybe the police were on the right track with Marcus?”
“Are you crazy? Marcus? What would the motive be?”
“Money?”
“Money?” She sounded like it was a foreign concept, something abstruse and absurd.
“Brian was killed for some reason,” Griff said. “There had to be some motive. Some reason.”
She stared at him as though she had only realized who she was speaking to. “I’ll tell you the reason,” she said. “This family is cursed.”
She turned and went back inside Jarrett’s room. The door closed silently behind her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Griff had to wait for the elevator. When the door finally slid open, Marcus stood before him. The harsh light was not kind. His face was puffy and he looked drawn with weariness. His expression, as he recognized Griff, was not pleased.
“What are you doing here?”
“Your father asked to see me.” Griff waited for Marcus to exit the elevator, but Marcus made no move to step out.
“Why would he? About what?”
“I’m supposed to leave today. He just wanted a final word.”
“Leave?”
Griff nodded. “Were you getting out?” he suggested.
“I’ll ride down with you.”
Griff stepped into the elevator and the doors closed. Griff pressed the ground floor button. He remembered that he had not yet interviewed Marcus. He had fully intended to. He had intended to speak to all the Arlingtons. But the week had flown past and somehow there was always someone more important, more in the forefront of his investigation to interview.
“Did the police give you permission to leave?” Marcus asked.
Griff said, “I’ll check back with Detective Patrick before I go, but there would be no grounds for keeping me here. I made my statement last night, and I can always answer follow-up questions by phone.”
Marcus’s hollow gaze seemed fixed on Griff’s face. “Do you think you have enough information to write your book?”
“I don’t know if there will be a book now. Your father asked me not to write it.”
“Because of Brian. That doesn’t matter now. Brian’s out of your way.”
Unease crawled down Griff’s spine. “Maybe the book isn’t as important as I thought it was.”
Marcus asked strangely, “What is important?”
Griff didn’t know how to answer. He wished he hadn’t got into this elevator. It was too easy to forget about Marcus, to dismiss him. The fact was, he knew Marcus the least well of any of the Arlingtons. And what he did know was not reassuring. Marcus was an alcoholic. Marcus had been in love with his brother’s wife. Marcus was on the outside of his own family. And at one point Marcus had believed he was entitled to the complete Arlington estate.
“You’re not answering the question,” Marcus said. “What is important?”
Griff told himself he was not afraid. He was a lot younger, stronger, fitter than Marcus, and he was on his guard. If all else he could hit the emergency button. His hand still casually rested on the panel, right next to the red button. But last night someone, most likely one of the Arlingtons, had boldly committed cold-blooded murder, and that person was still on the loose. Marcus was an unknown quantity and there was no question he was behaving oddly.
“Maybe I just needed to prove something to myself,” Griff replied. “Maybe just coming here was the test.”
Marcus’s mouth curved into a smile that was somehow more frightening than his strained and somber expression had been. “Do you think you know who kidnapped Brian?”
Griff remembered Pierce telling him to keep his mouth shut. But he could tell that Marcus knew he did think he had the answer. He said carefully, “I know that a deranged person took Brian that night. I know that the intent was not to harm him or kill him. I don’t know anything more than that. I don’t know if there is anything more to know.”
“A deranged person,” Marcus said thoughtfully.
The elevator reached the bottom floor. The door opened.
“I don’t think it was about money.” Griff stepped out of the elevator with a feeling of relief.
He glanced back at Marcus, but Marcus stood unmoving.
“No,” Marcus said. “Not that time.”
The elevator door closed.
* * *
He tried twice to get Pierce and then, checking his messages, realized he had probably been calling Pierce while Pierce was trying to get through to him.
His phone rang on the drive to Winden House, and Pierce’s number flashed up. Griff answered with, “Do you have access to the Arlingtons’ financial records?”
“Of course.”
“Everybody’s?”
“Well, essentially...yes. It depends on what you’re looking for. I don’t have instant access to every single account and trust fund. Obviously that’s information I can get, and information that the police have already requested. In fact, I’m going through Michaela’s financials now.”
“Who runs Arlington Amalgamated since Jarrett retired?”
“Howard Sand was groomed and trained by Jarrett to take his place as CEO after Matthew’s death.”