Her father’s office looked the same as it always had, the guns on the walls, the hunting gear dangling from hooks, that elephant staring glassy-eyed at nothing. But her gaze landed on other things too. Like a cotton-ball snowman that had lived at the top of the shelf for years and years. She didn’t remember making it. Was it Corinne’s or Danielle’s? And what about that picture of Mason cradling a swaddled baby girl? Was that really Aster?
Mason sat down at his desk. He looked much less substantial in his chair. Suddenly Aster felt nervous. Here they were, face-to-face; and for the first time, they both knew everything.
“How is your time off going?” Mason asked. Saybrook’s had given Aster two weeks of paid vacation, calling it “medical leave.”
“Fine,” Aster mumbled.
“Have you seen your mother?”
Aster fiddled with the cuff of her jacket. Naturally, Penelope had left the house immediately once the news about Mason’s affair came out; she was staying with her sister in Connecticut. She had remained centered during the whole thing, poised to a fault. She didn’t even have a comment about Mason’s predicament. Then again, maybe she was too angry to comment.
“Yes, I’ve visited her,” Aster said stiffly. “She’s doing fine.”
Mason nodded. Then he swallowed and looked at her. “I’ve really missed you, Aster. I’ve done a lot of thinking about how I failed you. I was supposed to be there for you during the important times of your life—especially that summer. Instead I let myself be distracted by things that shouldn’t have distracted me. I just want to say I’m sorry.”
For a moment Aster stared at him, slack-jawed. “You’re sorry?” she snapped. “You think that’s going to solve these problems?”
Mason’s mouth opened and closed, like a fish. “I—”
“You ditched me that year,” Aster pointed out. “You just dropped me like I didn’t matter. Because you had to cover up the Danielle situation, and you had to deal with Julia and all your other secrets.”
“I was trying to keep things together,” Mason said. “Everything was spinning out of control. I didn’t know what to do.”
Aster turned her palms over, unsure of how to respond. “How did you find out about . . . the Nazi thing?”
After a long moment, Mason sighed, folding his hands. “Dad told me, back when I became CEO. He downplayed it, though. Only when Geoff Browne came to me did I realize the extent of what had happened.” He shook his head and stared at the ceiling. “There were still stones in our collection from that time. But how was I supposed to know?”
“But instead of coming clean, like Browne wanted, you paid him off.”
“Yes.” Mason’s gaze flicked back and forth.
“And you thought it was over, but then Steven Barnett poked around where he wasn’t supposed to, right? He’d been close with Papa. He knew where to look.”
Mason nodded. “He was being groomed to be the next president. He was looking over financials, considering our next moves. He saw that I’d liquidated a lot of company stock and started asking questions. I refused to tell him, which angered him. If he was going to be the next president, he said, he had to know. ‘Well, then,’ I told him, ‘maybe you won’t be the next president.’ And we named Poppy instead.”
Aster nodded. It matched Julia’s story.
“But then Barnett figured it out anyway and came to me the night of the party.” Mason glanced at Aster. “He made all kinds of threats. The worst of it was that earlier that night, I had seen him with you. I thought he was going to apologize for taking advantage of you. And instead he threatened to ruin me. I don’t know what sent him over the edge.”
“He didn’t take advantage of me,” Aster said, pushing aside the feelings of guilt that rose at her father’s story. None of us are truly innocent, she thought sadly.
Mason folded his hands. “Well. It doesn’t matter. His mind was made up.”
“What would you have done if Julia hadn’t killed him?”
Mason sighed. Suddenly he seemed decades older. “Honestly, Aster, I don’t know.”
“But then Julia came to you and told you what she did.”
“That’s right. But I would never have killed him.”
“And what about Poppy?” Aster asked. “Where did she play into this? Because Elizabeth Cole was sure Poppy killed him.”
“I got a hysterical call from Poppy, shortly after Julia told me what she’d done. It was probably—I don’t know.” He looked up. “Midnight? Poppy had walked down to the marina and discovered Steven in the water. She was panicking, wanting to call the cops, but I talked her down. I told her to leave Steven where he was.”
“Leave him?”
Mason hung his head. “I know it wasn’t right. But his body would be discovered eventually. And I couldn’t help worrying that if she was the one who found him, Poppy might look guilty—and it might bring more unwanted attention to the family. To make sure, I paid off the coroner to punch up his blood-alcohol level.”
Aster covered her face. “Oh my God.”