Free Perfect Family by Pam Lewis Page B

terms?”
    â€œJesus, Randy. Of course. Yes.”
    â€œOne more thing. Was there a problem with the chain to the raft?”
    â€œNo,” William said. “Not as of Memorial Day. Here’s the thing that bothers me. She went in without a cap. You knew my mom, right? She drilled that into us like nobody’s business. So for Pony to go under the raft without a cap doesn’t add up. But how could anybody kill her? I mean, that would take a person wrapping her hair around the bottom of the chain, and how could anybody drag her down there? She was too strong for that. So none of it makes sense.”
    â€œWe’ll check all the possibilities,” Randy said.
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œIt’s possible she drowned before becoming caught in the chain. It’s possible she hit her head. As I said, we’ll know when the autopsy comes in.”

Chapter 4
William
    The point of Carteret family meetings was to keep everybody in the loop all the time. No secrets. “We’re a democracy,” Jasper liked to say. “Rumor and misinformation can wreak havoc on families. The democratic way is to hold meetings and require full attendance so everybody can hear the same thing at the same time in the same words.”
    In theory, it made sense. Sure. But real truths ricocheted around the family via a well-oiled partisan network, a whole crosshatch of allegiances. William entered the family house on Steele Road through the kitchen pantry at the back. No one had turned on any lights, and the kitchen, with its fading linoleum and old soapstone sink, was dark. He heard voices coming from the dining room.
    They were already seated at the table, his father at the head. Jasper Carteret III was tall and broad, with fair, freckled skin, once red hair now shot through with white, and heavy eyebrows that nearly obscured pale hazel eyes. Pony’s empty chair was to his right, and then Mira. Mira was an enigma to William—the cerebral sister,the one he knew least. She gave him a wan smile, her eyes huge under heavy black makeup. She’d dyed the ends of her hair a bright blue.
    Tinker, hands folded on the table, nodded at William. Even in grief, she was letting him know he was late. The buffet was covered with pictures of Pony, some propped up, others in piles. Andrew stood in his portable crib beside the buffet, slapping the rim and smiling.
    After William sat, Jasper began. “This may well be the most difficult thing we’ve ever faced as a family. More difficult even than when your mother died, because your sister’s death, your youngest sister, is outside the natural order of things.” He paused to let that sink in. “But we are a family, and we shall get through this together. We are strong.”
    â€œYou’re right, Daddy. We will.” Tinker blew her nose and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief.
    â€œWhat we all must have, before we go further, is a firm understanding—to the best of our ability—of exactly what happened.” Jasper opened one of those red journals he kept. William noticed a tremor in his father’s hand. The old man was fighting back tears. “Here’s what we know. The autopsy has been ruled negative.” He glanced at his three children from beneath those big eyebrows. “In other words, nothing was found to indicate foul play. She was alive when her hair caught on the chain.” He looked at Tinker. “The lacerations we saw along the side of her face were the result of her effort to pull free. The cause of death was drowning.”
    Mira groaned. “Do we have to do this now?”
    â€œThe toxicology screen ruled out poison and drugs,” Jasper continued. “Pony’s blood alcohol level was point-oh-four. That’s considered a trace amount. Pony was not drunk. Do not allow yourselves to think that she was. Do not allow anyone to suggest otherwise. We must be together on this point. She must have