Next was the immediate family. The list of whom to call, however, couldn’t have been any shorter. Connor’s parents were no longer alive; that left his one and only sibling—a younger sister, Elizabeth, whom he called Lizzie or sometimes Lizard.
The two were close in every way except geographically. Lizzie lived three thousand miles away, in Santa Barbara, and had her own busy career as a successful architect. She rarely made it back to the East Coast, the last time being before Nora and Connor had met.
Nora poured herself another cup of coffee and considered how best to tell a woman she’d never met, let alone spoken to, that her brother was dead at forty.
She knew she didn’t have to make the call. She could’ve had Mark Tillingham do it. But Nora also knew that someone who truly loved Connor would do it herself. So after finding the phone number in his PalmPilot, she dialed.
“Hello?” came a woman’s voice, groggy if not a little annoyed. It was barely past seven A.M. in California.
“Is this Elizabeth?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Nora Sinclair….”
Oddly, the sister didn’t cry, at least not on the phone. Instead, there was a stunned silence, followed by a few softly spoken questions.
Nora told her what she’d told the police. Word for word: her script. “Though I guess we won’t know anything for sure until the autopsy is done,” she pointed out.
Again, there was the stunned silence from Lizzie. Maybe, thought Nora, it was the guilt of having not seen her brother in a long while. Or maybe it was the sudden loneliness of being the only surviving member of her family. Maybe she was in shock, as Mark Tillingham had been.
“I’ll fly out tomorrow morning,” said Elizabeth. “Have you made funeral plans?”
“I wanted to speak to you first. I figured—”
Elizabeth had begun to cry. “I hope this doesn’t sound terrible, but that’s the last thing… I don’t think I could…. Would you mind taking care of it?”
“Of course not,” said Nora. She was beginning to say good-bye when Elizabeth choked back sobs and asked, “How long had you been engaged to Connor?”
Nora paused. She wanted to affect a good cry herself, but thought better of it. Instead, she said solemnly, “Only a week.”
“I’m sorry. Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Elizabeth.
In the wake of the phone call with Elizabeth, Nora spent the afternoon concentrating on the funeral arrangements. From flowers to food, there was a lot she was able to accomplish over the phone. However, there remained some things in life—and especially in death—that were best done in person. Choosing a funeral parlor was one.
But even there Nora was able to use her skills as a decorator. She selected the casket as she would any piece of furniture for a client. For Connor, that meant a most regal burl walnut with carved ivory handles. The instant the undertaker showed it to her, Nora knew it was the one.
“Done!” she said.
Chapter 23
“NORA, I KNOW this probably isn’t exactly a great time,” began Mark Tillingham. “But there’s something I need to discuss with you. The sooner the better.”
The time was minutes before the funeral service that Tuesday morning; the place was the crowded parking lot of St. Mary’s Church on Albany Post Road in Scarborough. Nora stared at Connor’s attorney through black Chanel sunglasses. They matched her black Armani suit and basic black Manolos. The two of them stood under a large holly tree just beyond the gravel driveway.
“It’s about Connor’s sister. She’s distraught, of course. She and Connor were so close. Elizabeth has some concerns about your intentions.”
“My intentions?”
“Regarding the estate.”
“What did Elizabeth say to you? No, let me guess, Mark. Elizabeth is afraid I might contest Connor’s will.”
“Let’s call it ‘a concern,’” he said. “The state doesn’t recognize fiancées as having a legal claim, but that hasn’t stopped some people from—”
Nora shook her head. “I won’t contest, Mark. God! I have no interest in the estate. It was Connor I loved. Let me be very clear on this: I have no interest in Connor’s estate. You can tell that to Lizzie.”
Mark’s face was a study in embarrassment. “Of course,” he said. “Again, I’m sorry I had to bring this up.”
“So, that’s why she’s been avoiding me?”
“No, I think it’s more that she’s upset. She and Connor were inseparable growing up. Their parents died when they were both very young.”
“Out of curiosity, what did Connor leave her?”
Mark stared down at his tasseled black loafers. “I’m not supposed to reveal information like that, Nora.”
“You also are not supposed to be upsetting the woman Connor loved right before his funeral service.”
His guilt clearly outweighed his professionalism. “Elizabeth basically gets two-thirds of the estate, including the house,” he said in a lowered voice. “As I said, they were close.”
“And the rest?”
“Two cousins in San Diego get lump sums. The rest goes to various charities.”
“That’s good,” Nora said, softening a bit.
“Yes, it is,” replied Mark. “Connor was good that way. Hell, he was good in a lot of ways.”
Nora nodded. “Connor was great, Mark. We should be getting inside, shouldn’t we?”
Chapter 24
IT WAS A lovely service, sad and very touching. St. Mary’s, with the beautifully manicured Sleepy Hollow Country Club looming in the background, was the perfect spot.
At least that’s what everyone kept telling Nora. There wasn’t a receiving line, but people still made a point of coming up to her. She’d met some of Connor’s friends and business associates previously; a few others she’d known about. The rest introduced themselves and fumbled with words of sympathy.
All the while—at the church as well as the cemetery—Elizabeth Brown kept her distance. Not that Nora was necessarily eager for a détente. Actually, Connor’s sister had done her a favor. She’d unwittingly bolstered the notion that the last person who’d want Connor dead was the woman poised to be worth millions by marrying him.
It was back at the house in Westchester, where people from the funeral had gathered for food and further commiserating, that Elizabeth finally went up to her.
“I noticed that you don’t drink. Not even on a day like today,” Elizabeth said.
Nora was holding a glass of sparkling water. “Oh, I drink. But I guess I prefer water today.”
“We really haven’t had much of a chance to talk, have we?” Elizabeth said. “I want to thank you for making all the arrangements. I don’t think I could’ve done it.” Tears began to well in her eyes.
“You’re welcome. I suppose it made sense, given that I live here. I mean not here here but—”
“I know, Nora. In fact, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
A man walked by, one of Connor’s associates from Greenwich. Elizabeth paused so as not to be overheard.
“Come,” said Nora. “Let’s step outside for a minute.”
She led Elizabeth out the front door to the large flagstone steps of the entrance. It was now just the two of them. Time for some honesty?
“Anyway,” said Elizabeth. “I had a conversation with Mark Tillingham. It seems Connor has left me this house.”
Nora’s reaction was brilliant. “Really? Well, that’s good. I’m glad it can stay in the family. Especially with you, Lizzie.”