“What’s going on?” Dad demanded, charging to the entrance. “Is it my son? Oh my God, is it Grant? Can I see him?”
“Calm down, Mr. Shepherd,” agent Armstrong reassured him. “He’s not here. But I think we may have found a crime scene . . . Henry, why don’t you take your father back to the house. Make sure he gets a shower. Something to eat. It’s been a long night.”
“What kind of crime scene?” Dad said. “I demand to know. You’re on my property.”
Dad had reverted to landowner bully, the way he was when he first met the Grays. I didn’t like him when he was like this. He was an asshole.
Agent Armstrong wasn’t fazed. “There’s a rug that appears to be missing and signs of a struggle. I need a team to go over it. In the meantime, the best thing you can do to help is take care of yourself. We’ll notify you when we know something more. It’s best if you go back to the house for now.”
Mere and I looked at each other.
“Come on, Dad,” Mere said, and he let her take his arm and lead him away.
I followed, looking over my shoulder as person after person went into the Breakers, carrying kits and putting on booties. They looked like they knew what they were doing. I just hoped they would find some bit of something that hadn’t been bleached.
In the main house, I stationed myself by a window in the upstairs hallway. Edgar came by every so often with green tea and gingersnaps from Hannah. I watched people come and go from the Breakers.
I should’ve known. It was the closest building to the bay. The door practically backed right onto the seawall. All someone would have to do was heave Lyudmila’s body over into the rowboat and dump her into the water.
I saw agent Armstrong leave the Breakers and make his way up the driveway toward our house.
I ran downstairs and practically tripped over Meredith as I did. I wasn’t the only one keeping an eye on the investigation.
Was it me? Or was there something about the way Mere looked at me and then avoided my gaze? She’d given me that same shifty look when she’d been going out with Ajay Wijenaike, a guy from the crew team and one of Todd Wishlow’s best friends. It’s not that I minded that she went out with someone from the team, but Ajay and Todd were pieces of work who were only interested in our money. She knew it; I knew it. She dated Ajay anyway.
Now I was sure she had done something else that she knew I wouldn’t approve of. And she’d done it recently.
But agent Armstrong was downstairs and probably had news, so I decided to put off asking her about it.
Big mistake.
? ? ?
Agent Armstrong was already in the living room when Mere and I came crashing in.
“. . . pursuing other lines of inquiry at the same time. When was the last time anyone saw Yuri Bulgakov?”
“Yuri? I don’t know. No one’s found him yet. He came to the island with the travel team, didn’t he, Joyce?”
Joyce was sitting in the corner, as usual, making notes on her electronic tablet. “Actually, he came to the island before the family arrived to make sure everything was ready. I saw him in the guard shack myself when we got here Friday evening.”
“And is he in the habit of carrying semiautomatic firearms and shooting dogs with them?”
“The first part, yes. The second part? No,” I said before Dad had a chance to answer.
Joyce scowled at me. I’d spoken out of turn. This was a serious breach of etiquette. Since she used to be our nanny, she thought she could still make us behave with a look. For the most part, she was right. But Dad was tired, and there was no way that Yuri would be plugging dogs. Especially not Patience, whom he helped train.
“I see,” agent Armstrong said as Meredith and I sat down on the couch on either side of Dad. “Could you please tell me the exact nature of the relationship of this man with your late wife?”
Dad looked startled. “What are you talking about? They were close. Friends from Russia.”
“How close?”
“Brother-and-sister close. My wife, she didn’t have the best home situation growing up in Moscow. Her father was an abusive alcoholic. I get the feeling that Yuri saved her from that somehow. He got her away from her father and into the ballet academy. At least, that’s what she told me. All I really know is that she wouldn’t come to the States without him.”
“She called him brat,” Mere said. “That means ‘brother,’ right?”
“But they weren’t real brother and sister,” I said. “It was a more spiritual thing.”
Agent Armstrong said, “They weren’t directly related. Which you would know if you had done a thorough background on him before you installed him as head of security.”