Nineteen

THOMAS WOLF’S SECRETARY TOLD Ben Cantor that Thomas was on his way to the yacht club and might be planning to spend the night on The Sea Wolf.

Cantor had released the boat back to the family by then, after having gone over it again, still finding no evidence that someone had been on it that night with Joe Wolf. Cantor had no idea whether the youngest son had inherited it or just grabbed it for himself, being a Wolf. Frankly, Cantor didn’t care. He had just decided it was time to make a more serious run at the boy prince, put him in the same barrel he’d put his sister in the other day.

After just one conversation with Thomas Wolf at the stadium, Cantor had already gotten the idea that you had to Taser him to shut him up once he picked up a good head of steam.

Thomas was on the top deck when Cantor came walking up the dock.

“Permission to come aboard,” Cantor called out, grinning up at him.

“I was hopeful that my only company tonight would be my date,” Thomas said. “Blair. Or maybe it’s Blaine.”

“This shouldn’t take long,” Cantor said.

“Bullshit.”

They ended up in the stateroom. Thomas Wolf had a bottle of Heineken Zero in his hand. Nonalcoholic, Cantor knew. He’d heard the guy had been on the wagon for a while, but who the hell ever knew for sure?

“Should I have a lawyer present?” Thomas said.

“Do you need one?”

Everybody talked about Thomas Wolf as if he were an aging frat boy. Cantor thought it was a pose, especially after the first time they’d spoken. There was intelligence in his eyes, an almost cool sort of irony to his general attitude, as if the joke was on you. Cantor had already decided he would not make the mistake of underestimating him.

Or believing him.

“Is this where you ask if Daddy loved me?” Thomas said. “Spoiler alert—he didn’t. One night I overheard him and a friend getting sloshed in the study. And the friend wanted to know how many sons Joe Wolf had wanted.

“‘Two’ was his answer.”

“Something like that would sure piss the hell out of me.”

“You mean, enough to throw him over the side?” Thomas shook his head. “Nah. As much fun as it sounds like, and as many times as I thought about it, I decided a long time ago that I wouldn’t do well in prison.”

“Hardly anybody does.”

“So what do you want to talk about, really?”

“Your brothers and your sister.”

Thomas grinned. “Oh. You want me to throw them over the side.”

He likes having an audience. Cantor imagined him as the kid at the family dinner table who didn’t get to talk and had been making up for lost time ever since.

“Things certainly worked out great for Jenny. She just turned into the wealthiest and most powerful schoolteacher in America.”

“Smartest, too. She asked me to be her right-hand man with the Wolves.”

“Sounds like more responsibility than your father ever gave you with the team,” Cantor said.

“He didn’t want me to have any real responsibility. Behind my back, he told his friends he just needed me to have an office to go to. He didn’t believe I’d turned my life around even when I had.”

None of them needs much encouragement to talk about their daddy issues.

“Is there any way your sister could have known he was going to leave the store to her? Two stores, actually.”

“I was in the room that day,” Thomas said. “She sure looked as if the news shocked the shit out of her.”

“Maybe she’s a good actress.”

“Aren’t they all?”

Cantor waited.

“You really think somebody might have killed him?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to,” Thomas said. He took another sip of fake beer. “Well, if you’re asking me, if one of them finally decided they’d had enough, it wouldn’t have been her. What did she have to gain if she didn’t know how much she had to gain beforehand?”

Let him think you’re leaving him out of it.

“But if one of your brothers, or both, knew how much they had to lose, it could have thrown them into a rage, am I right?” Cantor said.

Thomas shrugged.

“Danny’s too weak, as much of a tough guy as he likes to think he is. Jack never had any use for Danny, to tell you the truth. Or for the rest of us, for that matter. He thinks he’s one of those strongman types. But now he wants Danny’s help, and mine, to take down Jenny.”

“You pick a lane yet?” Cantor said.

“Not until I have to.”

“Even though she just upgraded you?”

“Even though.”

Cantor walked over to the drinks setup and grabbed one of those small bottles of soda water.

“It sounds like you think Jack could have done it, especially if he knew your father was going to put Jenny in charge of the newspaper.”

“From the time we were kids,” Thomas said, “Jack was the one who would do anything, and I mean anydamnthing, to win whatever competition Dad had set up for us. If he needed Danny on his side, he’d get Danny. Same with me. The only one who wouldn’t ever go along was Jenny.”

“Kill or be killed,” Cantor said.

“So you know the family motto.”

“Sounds like an interesting way to grow up.”

“Interesting would be one way to describe it,” Thomas said. “Boot camp would be another. Or military school. Or reform school.”

Cantor said, “Say somebody did do it. They’d have to swim back to shore, correct?”

“Unless they rowed out, climbed up the ladder, got it done, pulled up the ladder, and jumped back down into the boat.”

“Who said the ladder was up?”

Thomas didn’t hesitate. “The world’s greatest detective agency. TMZ.”

“Your brother Jack was on the rowing team at Stanford,” Cantor said.

“Wasn’t he, though?”

There was another silence. But they never lasted very long with Thomas Wolf. Cantor got the idea that if Thomas went too long without saying something, his whole body might begin to cramp up.

“Who would your money be on?” Thomas said to Cantor.

“Maybe you.”

With that, he stood up and headed back up the stairs. Thomas followed him.

“How come you didn’t take any notes?”

“Trust me,” Cantor said. “I’ll remember this conversation just fine without them.”