She gets out the car, phone in her hand. Her brother is waiting for her on the jetty, his tie askew. She points at it.
“Aren’t you going to take that off now? The lawyer didn’t come.”
He smiles, tugs the tie around like noose, sticks his tongue out.
“Grim,” she smiles, turning back to her phone. “Google maps says slip F-18. No idea what that means.”
“It means our dear departed daddy also had a boat. In addition to the mistress, the second house and God knows what else.”
“You think you know a person.”
“Nobody knew our father.”