Page 18 of When You're Forgotten
Richard exhaled.“No, we only just arrived last night.We’d been living away for some time, partly to avoid the family’s… ongoing drama.”He stiffened slightly.“But with James gone, we felt obliged to come back to Brynmor Hall.”
Jenna cast him a glance, then turned to Finn.“We wanted to support Marianne and Catherine, you see.In a time like this, the family should be together.”
Finn nodded understandingly.“I see.Do you have any thoughts on what caused James’s sudden death?”
Jenna pursed her lips, sadness in her eyes.“He…overworked himself.Always worrying about the estate finances, trying to keep the family afloat.”She paused, casting a sidelong look at her husband.“He never took a break.”
Richard released a disapproving grunt.“James never recognized boundaries, is more accurate.He didn’t know when enough was enough.Always meddling, always deciding for us.”
Finn sensed tension crackling between them.“Meddling how?”he asked softly, curious about the undercurrent of resentment.
Before Richard could answer, Jenna gave a small sigh.“Let’s just say James was the one who secured funds for everything around here.And he often expected the rest of the family to toe his line.We…disagreed on methods.”
Richard’s jaw set.“He used his money as leverage.If it weren’t for him, we’d be just fine,” he said, but his tone faltered unconvincingly.
Jenna flashed him an exasperated look.“Oh, don’t pretend.We needed his help more often than not.You know that.He bailed us out time and again.That’s the only reason we had a place to live after your last business fiasco.The only kindness we could do in return, was put in our wills that James and Marianne’s children should inherit our wealth...If we ever have any.”
Anger flared in Richard’s eyes, and he took a sharp step away, hand curling into a fist.“That’s enough, Jenna.”She folded her arms, looking equally frustrated, and a heavy silence fell.
Awkwardness weighed on Finn’s shoulders.He cleared his throat, aiming to diffuse the moment.“It sounds like finances were a stress for James, as well as the rest of the family.If he was supporting you all, that might have taken its toll.”
Richard's temper flashed."We didn't ask for the man to meddle in every aspect of our finances or to lord it over us every chance he got."He pointed a finger at Finn."You want to know if he was killed?Let me say this: James was perfectly capable of bringing about his own downfall with his controlling ways."
With that, he spun on his heel, striding angrily back toward the manor.Jenna watched him go, a mixture of embarrassment and regret on her face.
She forced a small shrug as an apology to Finn.“He’s just upset,” she said quietly.“All the Penroses are quick to anger—James was no different.If Richard doesn’t watch his blood pressure, he might end up just like his brother.”
Finn frowned slightly, uncertain how to respond.He settled on, “Thank you for your time under the circumstances,” which he meant sincerely.“We appreciate any help you can give us.”
Jenna nodded, exhaling.“I should go inside and calm him down.Good day, Mr.Wright.”She offered a slight wave and followed her husband’s path up the gravel, heading back into the house.
Finn stood there for a moment, processing the encounter.A flurry of tension indeed simmered within the Penrose clan.If finances had caused friction, it might explain James’s stress—and maybe the impetus for someone to want him out of the picture, though none of that was certain.Could someone in the family have murdered him over such tensions?
Remembering Amelia, he turned in a slow circle.The estate grounds stretched out under a pleasant morning sun, but he saw no sign of her.Eventually, he noticed an arched opening in a tall stone wall just beyond some hedges—a path leading to what looked like a walled garden.He ventured toward it, following a faint murmur of voices carried on the breeze.
Through the arched entrance, he stepped into a private garden enclosed by old stone walls draped in climbing roses.Within, neat paths wound among flowerbeds bursting with early-season blossoms, and a small fountain trickled at the center.The sun’s rays slanted over the wall, giving the space a tranquil warmth.It was in stark contrast to the tension swirling around the estate.
Ahead, Amelia stood talking to a man in his early sixties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a genial expression.The man wore a rumpled tweed jacket, a notepad tucked under one arm, and carried a certain air of officialdom.At Finn’s approach, Amelia glanced over, relief softening her features.
“There you are,” she called.“I was wondering where you’d got to.”
Finn raised a hand in greeting.“I might ask you the same question.I knocked on your door, thought you’d vanished.”
Amelia offered a half-smile.“I woke up early and went for a walk.Then I bumped into DI Lloyd here.”She nodded to the older man.“Detective Inspector Thomas Lloyd from the local station.Thomas, this is Finn Wright, my partner in this case.”
Thomas Lloyd stepped forward, extending a hand.“A pleasure, Mr.Wright.Good to see more official involvement in James Penrose’s death.We could use all the help we can get.”
Finn took Lloyd’s hand, noting his firm grip.“Nice to meet you, Inspector.Are you investigating the same circumstances?”
Lloyd nodded, adjusting his jacket collar.“Yes.I was assigned to look into it, but as soon as the Home Office declared interest, I was told to coordinate with you.I gather there’s suspicion it might be murder?”
Crossing his arms, Finn exhaled.“That’s not confirmed yet.The autopsy suggests James had a failing heart.He may have died from natural causes, possibly triggered by shock or fear.So at this point, it’s uncertain if we’re dealing with a homicide.”
Thomas Lloyd’s expression shifted, almost disappointed.“Oh, I see.Well, let me tell you—I’m not convinced it’s a simple heart attack.I suspect he was killed or threatened.Could be anything from a grudge to a financial dispute.”
Amelia spoke up softly.“We’ve reason to think James sent everyone away that night and then ended up in the panic room.If someone cornered him… well, that would certainly fit your theory that a confrontation killed him.But the official cause of death might still be the heart condition.”
Thomas pursed his lips.“Heart conditions can be exploited, can’t they?Put enough fear into a man like that, and it’s as good as murder.”
