Charlotte started off and then, once out of the pair’s sightline, paused to listen. She heard Gemma’s voice high and Todd’s sounding almost as if he were reprimanding her, but she couldn’t make out the words. She headed back for the house.
Mina was sitting at the kitchen table when she returned.
“Did you find anyone?”
Charlotte nodded. “Gemma and Todd.” She paused. “Are they a thing?”
“A thing? You mean dating?” Mina seemed to pale when Charlotte nodded. “No. I hope not—” Mina looked at her, her eyes tilted with worry. “Why? Did you see something?”
Charlotte shrugged. “No. Just wondering.”
“I think they’re friends. I mean, she’s always out there with the horses.”
“Sure. How about him and Lyndsey? Do they get along?”
Mina shrugged. “I suppose. Why wouldn’t they?”
“Just asking. Did you see Gemma go into her room when she left you talking to Payne that day?”
“I didn’t see her go in the room…” Mina put her hand on her stomach. “This is all too much.”
“I know you don’t want to think about it, but someone went up those back stairs while you were gone. She was near the stairs.”
Mina collapsed back into her chair and dropped her chin to her chest. “I know. I know.” She looked up at Charlotte, her eyes glistening. “She’s the sweet one.”
“Mina, let me ask you something. Who inherits the estate? Are the girls in his will? Are you?”
Mina’s jaw lowered. “I don’t know. I assumed me until you just said that.” She looked down, brow crinkling as if deep in concentration, and then looked up with a shrug. “He might have left them a token amount. Something to cover college or a new car, not that I wouldn’t have provided them with those things.”
Charlotte remained quiet until Mina noticed her watching.
“Do you think Gemma killed Kimber for his money?”
Charlotte shook her head. “She probably went to her room like she said she did. Once in there, anyone could have sneaked down the hall.”
Mina nodded. “This is a nightmare.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The funeral confirmed what Charlotte had already suspected—Kimber Miller was not a popular man. The only people in attendance were the people who lived in his house and the workers from his property, who probably showed up to curry favor with new management.
Mina mourned for the rest of them, sobbing loudly twice during the ceremony. Lyndsey and the twins appeared somber, but dry-eyed. Kimber’s ashes sat silent in a bronze urn, unmoved either way.
Charlotte’s attention drifted as she and the others crossed and uncrossed their legs and shifted from one butt-cheek to the other on the hard wooden church pews. She watched people enter, hoping to spot a shadowy figure lurking nearby, a killer drawn to view the pain his handiwork had caused, but the mystery refused to wrap up that easily.
The service was blessedly short, as the reverend struggled to find things to say about a man he clearly didn’t know. By all accounts, it seemed Kimber was good at making money and terrible at interpersonal relationships. When asked to speak, Payne did the honors for the twins, but her speech ended up more about the horses Kimber provided than about the man himself, other than a quick memory about him asking them repeatedly to remove their elbows from the table and sit up like ladies. Lyndsey’s remembrance also leaned heavily on the horses and her apartment above the stables. Only Mina remembered him in a light other than that of a distant benefactor. She told a story about Kimber teaching her a song about a drunk monkey when she was a little girl that had made them both laugh. So much so, she felt the need to sing it for the church:
I went to the county fair
The birds and beasts were there
The big baboon by the light of the moon was combing his golden hair
The monkey he got drunk
And sat on the elephant’s trunk
The elephant sneezed and fell on his knees
And that was the end of the monk, the monk, the monk
Charlotte heard one of the men Mina had identified as the landscapers repeat the song in Spanish for the others behind her amid a spate of snickering. Lyndsey laughed politely and Payne rolled her eyes at her sister. Mina finished with a final goodbye and a sob and started down the few steps to return to her seat. She appeared a little wobbly, so Lyndsey jumped up to assist her. The girls watched, both turning their heads enough that Charlotte could see their expressions soften. They might not have known their adoptive father very well, but they clearly thought of Mina as their mother.
Charlotte was finding Kimber to be a bit of an odd duck. He’d been kind enough, or at least willing enough, to accept not only one, but four people into his life. But once in his home, he barely paid attention to any of them. Even Mina, who’d been the only person to spend any time with him during the last few years of his life, had been forced to reach back to childhood to find a happy story, and that was just a song a robot could have been programmed to perform.
After the service the tiny congregation returned to the house for a catered wake. The workers dug into the abundance of food and Mina collapsed into a chair, looking exhausted. When Charlotte approached her she looked up, her eyes rimmed by dark circles.
“The food is delicious,” said Charlotte for the sake of making conversation. She’d only tried a deviled egg and then quietly slipped it into the trash when no one was looking. It had relish in it and she hated deviled eggs with relish.
What is wrong with people?
“Thank you, I mean, not that I had
