“Oh my God.” Milly sounds so startled that for a second, I’m sure she’s read my mind. Then she slows the Jeep and says, “I think that’s Catmint House.”
I look up as Milly pulls the Jeep to a stop, giving us a clear view of the curving seaside road we’re on and—holy hell. There’s a huge house built at the edge of a steep bluff rising directly out of the ocean, its clean white lines a sharp contrast to the jagged black rocks. The part we’re looking at is practically all floor-to-ceiling windows that sparkle in the summer sun. A shimmering metal widow’s walk surrounds the roof, and a metal rail runs in front of a flat section to one side of the house. If I had to guess, I’d bet there’s an infinity pool there. The view would be unbelievable.
I’m not really an architecture guy, but even I can appreciate how dramatic everything is. Not to mention massive. The place looks almost as big as Gull Cove Resort. For one person. My chest tightens, and once again, there’s nothing on earth I want more than to keep Anders Story from ever making his way back here. I hope he dies before he sets foot in the oceanfront palace he grew up in. Even if I have to kill him myself.
“Unbelievable,” Milly breathes, and my murderous thoughts evaporate. Mostly.
“I wonder what it’s like inside?” Aubrey says wistfully. The more time I spend around Aubrey, the more I think she couldn’t care less about the money. She just wants somebody in this messed-up family to give a shit about her.
“Guess we’ll find out Sunday,” Milly says, putting her foot back on the gas. Her words are casual, but her voice is tense as Catmint House disappears from view. Milly’s feelings about the Story family are harder to read. When she told Aubrey and me on the ferry that her mother bribed her with a diamond necklace, my first thought was: She’s shallow. She likes chasing shiny things, just like Anders Story. But she could’ve easily joined the über-rich Towhee crowd—that smarmy senator’s kid Reid Chilton obviously has a hard-on for her—and she hasn’t.
We drive a few more minutes in silence until Milly turns into a driveway, so long and winding that we can’t see the Baxterses’ huge colonial until we’re halfway down it. “Ooh, nice,” Aubrey says as we approach. “I saw online that this place used to belong to a whaling captain. It’s a historic landmark.”
“You saw online?” I echo, amused. “Doing a little light stalking?”
She shrugs. “Hazel seems to know a lot about us. It’s only fair.”
Milly eases the Jeep next to a black Range Rover and shifts into park. “So you guys will do all the talking, right?” I say as we climb out of the car.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Milly says airily. “It depends on what kind of questions Hazel asks, doesn’t it? Uncle Anders is a fascinating branch of the Story family tree.”
She’s enjoying my discomfort way too much.
Aubrey presses the doorbell, and we hear a muted “Be right there!” and the sound of footsteps before the door swings open to reveal Hazel. “Hi!” she says, stepping aside to let us in. Her eyes rove across each of us in turn, and I quickly drop mine. “You guys are right on time. I thought we could do the interview in our living room, if that’s okay? Granddad is already there.”
“Sure,” Aubrey says. We follow Hazel down a hallway that’s filled with what look like family pictures spanning several generations.
“Do you live with just your grandfather?” Milly asks.
“No, my mom lives here too. She moved back in after she and my dad got divorced a couple of years ago,” Hazel explains. We pass a formal parlor, and I’m glad we’re not talking there because all the chairs look like they belong in a museum. This conversation is going to be uncomfortable enough as it is. “She travels a lot in the summer, though. It works out, because I’m home then to spend time with Granddad.” She lowers her voice. “We have a live-in nurse, but his dementia seems to get worse with no family around.”
“You said he’s doing better today, though?” Aubrey asks in a hopeful whisper.
“Totally,” Hazel says as we step into a sun-filled room. It’s much more casual than the rest of the house, with couches lining the brightly painted walls. Her grandfather is sitting