{ 178 }.

T W ENT Y.

A n hour later, as Gin slid into the passenger seat of her brothers dark gray Porsche, she closed her eyes and shook her head. This has been the worst six hours of my life.

Lane made some kind of grunt, which could have meant a lot of things" but most certainly didnt come close to the Oh, God, I cant believe you lived through that she was looking for.

Excuse me, she snapped. But I was just in jail"

Were in trouble, Gin.

She shrugged. We made bail, and Samuel T. is going to make sure that it stays out of the press"

Gin. Her brother looked over at her while shooting them into traf- fic. Were in real trouble.

Later, oh, so much later, she would remember this moment of their eyes meeting across the cars interior as the start of the downfall, the tip of the first domino that made all the other ones fall so fast it was not possible to stop the sequence.

What are you talking about? she asked softly. Youre scaring me.

The family is in debt. Serious debt.

{ 179 }.

She rolled her eyes and slashed a hand through the air. Seriously, Lane, Ive got bigger problems"

And Rosalinda killed herself in the house. Some time in the last two days.

Gin put a hand to her mouth. And remembered calling the woman and getting no answer just hours ago. Dead?

Dead. In her office.

It was impossible not to have a case of the skin crawls as she pic- tured the phone ringing next to the corpse of their controller. Dear God . . .

Lane cursed as he glanced in the rearview mirror and changed lanes with a jerk of the wheel. The households checking account is overdrawn, and our father has somehow managed to borrow fifty- three million dollars from the Prospect Trust Company for God only knows what. And the worst part? I dont know how much farther this goes and Im not sure how to find out.

What are you . . . Im sorry, I dont understand?

His reiteration didnt help her at all.

As her brother fell silent, she stared out the front windshield, watch- ing the road ahead curve to the contour of the Ohio River.

Father can just repay the money, she said dully. Hell repay it and itll all go away"

Gin, if you need to borrow that kind of cash, its because youre in deep, deep trouble. And if you havent paid it back? You cant.

But Mummy has money. She has plenty of"

I dont think we can take anything for granted.

So where did you find the bail? To get me out?

I have some cash and also my trust, which I broke away from the family funds. The two arent nearly enough to take care of Easterly, however" and forget about paying back that kind of loan or keeping Bradford Bourbon afloat if it comes to that.

She looked down at her fucked- up manicure, focusing on the deci- mation of that which had been perfect when shed woken up that morn- ing. Thank you. For getting me out.

{ 180 }.

No problem.

Ill pay you back.

Except with what? Her father had cut her off . . . but worse, what if there was no money to give her her allowance anyway?

Its just not possible, she said. This has to be a misunderstanding.

Some kind of . . . a miscommunication.

I dont think so"

Youve got to think positively, Lane"

I walked in on a dead woman in her office about two hours ago, and that was before I found out about the debt. I can assure you that lack of optimism is not the problem here.

Do you think . . . Gin gasped. Do you think she stole from us?

Fifty- three million dollars? Or even a part of that? No, because why commit suicide" if she embezzled funds, the smart thing would be to take off and change her identity. You dont kill yourself in your em- ployers house if youve successfully taken cash.

But what if she was murdered?

Lane opened his mouth like he was going to no way her. But then he closed it back up" as if he were trying that idea on for size. Well, she was in love with him.

Gin felt her jaw drop. Rosalinda? With Father?

Oh, come on, Gin. Everyone knows that.

Rosalinda? Her idea of letting her hair down was to tie that bun of hers lower on her head.

Repressed or not, she was with him.

In our mothers house.

Dont be naive.

Right, it was the first time she had ever been accused of that. And suddenly, that memory from all those years ago, from New Years Eve, came back . . . when she had seen her father leaving that womans office.

But that had been decades ago, from another era.

Or maybe not.

Lane hit the brakes as they came up to a red light next to the gas station shed visited that morning. Think about where she lived, he { 181 }.

said. Her four- bedroom Colonial in Rolling Meadows is more than she could afford on a bookkeepers salary" who do you think paid for that?

She has no children.

That we know of.

Gin squeezed her eyes shut as her brother hit the gas again. I think Im going to be ill.

Do you want me to pull over?

I want you to stop telling me these things.

There was a long silence . . . and in the tense void, she kept going back to that vision of her father coming out of that office and doing up his robe.

Eventually, her brother shook his head. Ignorance isnt going to change anything. We need to find out whats happening. I need to get to the truth somehow.

How did you . . . how did you find all this out?

Does it matter?

As they rounded the final curve on River Road before Easterly, she looked off to the right, up to the top of the hill. Her familys mansion sat in the same place it always had, its incredible size and elegance dominat-ing the horizon, the famous white expanse making her think of all the bourbon bottles that bore an etching of it on their labels.

Until this moment, she had assumed her familys position was set in stone.

Now, she feared it might be sand.

O kay, so were all set here. Lizzie strode down the rows of round tables under the big tent. The chairs look good.

Ja, Greta said as she made a slight adjustment to a tablecloth.

The pair of them continued on, inspecting the positioning of all seven hundred seats, double- checking the crystal chandeliers that were hanging from the tents three points, making further tweaks to the draped lengths of pale pink and white.

When they were finished, they stepped out from underneath and { 182 }.

followed the lengths of dark green extension cords that snaked around the exterior and supplied electricity to the eight cyclone fans that would ensure circulation.

They had a good five hours of work time left before dark, and, for once, Lizzie thought theyd actually run out of punch- list priorities.

Bouquets were done. Flower beds were in perfect condition. Pots at the entrances and exits of the tent were done up fit to kill with combinations of plant material and supplemental blooms. Even the food- prep stations in the adjunct tents had been arranged per Miss Auroras instructions.

As far as Lizzie was aware, the food was ready. Liquor delivered.

Waitstaff and additional bartenders had been coordinated through Regi- nald, and he was not the type to drop any balls. Security to make sure the press stayed away were off- duty Metro Police officers and all ready to go.

She really wished there were something to occupy her time. Ner- vous energy had made her even more productive than usual" and now she was left with nothing but the knowledge that there was a criminal investigation going on about fifty yards away from her.

God, Rosalinda.

Her phone went off against her hip, the vibration making her jump.

As she took the cell out, she exhaled. Thank God" hello? Lane? Are you okay" yes. She frowned as Greta looked over. Actually, I left it in my car, but I can go get it now. Yes. Sure, of course. Where are you? All right. Ill get it and bring it right to you.

When she ended the call, Greta said, Whats going on?

I dont know. He says he needs a computer.

There must be a dozen of them in the house.

After what happened this morning, you think Im going to argue with the guy?

Fair enough. Although the womans expression screamed disap- proval. Im going to check the front of the house beds and pots, and confirm the parkers are going to arrive on time.

Eight a.m.?

Eight a.m. And then I dont know, Im thinking of heading home.

Im getting a migraine, and its a long day tomorrow.

{ 183 }.

Thats terrible! I say go now and come back ready to roar.

Before Lizzie turned away, her old friend gave her a stern look through those heavy glasses. Are you all right?

Oh, yeah. Absolutely.

Theres a lot of Lane around here. Thats why Im asking.

Lizzie glanced over at the house. Hes getting a divorce.

Really.

Thats what he says.

Greta crossed her arms over her chest and her German accent be- came more apparent. About two years too late for that"

Hes not all bad, you know.

Excuse me? Is this" nein, you cant be serious.

He didnt know Chantal was pregnant, okay?

Greta threw up her hands. Oh, well, that makes all the difference, then, ja? So he voluntarily married her while he was with you. Perfect.

Please, dont. Lizzie rubbed her aching eyes. He"

He got to you, didnt he. He called you, he came to you, something.