program. Michael was the most brilliant person I’ve ever met.”
This happened quite often. His brother had been such a big presence in so many people’s lives. Kennicott often ran into his former friends or colleagues. He decided to ignore her comment. “Why do you say Samantha’s a threat to her son?”
Starr chuckled. She had a surprisingly guttural laugh. “Because she killed her husband.”
“You know I’m not going to comment on that.”
“Okay. You want background?”
“This only happened a few hours ago. We need to find out everything we can.”
“I’ll start with Samantha. From some small town up north. Middle of nowhere. Family ran a gas station. Scholarship student, real ambitious, worked for the bank and got recruited to work at Wyler Foods. Nathan, the oldest brother, was running the business into the ground.”
“That how she met Terrance?”
“He was living in the States and came back for the company barbecue. They had a whirlwind romance, and he moved back home. Terrance’s mother planned a big wedding, but Sam talked Terrance into eloping. Before you know it, she’s pregnant. They were so mismatched.”
“How’s that?”
“Terrance had it easy his whole life. He didn’t want to work that hard. When Simon was born, he was head over heels about the baby. Samantha wasn’t into motherhood. And she hated the stupid social scene. The balls, the opera openings, sitting around that boring yacht club all summer. Sam didn’t care about any of that crap. I give her credit for one thing: she actually worked.”
“What happened to their marriage?”
“Samantha talked Terrance into leaving Wyler Foods and starting up their own food store. A total disaster. Last year he met April Goodling and that was it. He went back to work with his brothers and was loving it.”
“You know the brothers?”
“Those Wyler boys. What a mess.” Starr ran a hand through her hair. “Nathan, the oldest, is fifty-three and on his third wife. We’ll see how long that lasts. And Jason has that terrible disease. Another yearand he’ll be on a feeding tube. Poor guy. In the Wyler family what good are you if you can’t haul around a bunch of vegetables at three in the morning?”
“I met Nathan this morning,” Kennicott said. “He’s not fond of Samantha.”
“Hah,” Starr said. “The whole family hates her.”
Starr hit the keyboard again and the printer started spitting out pages.
“How did Terrance react to Samantha’s angry e-mails and voice messages? Was he upset? Furious?”
She shook her head. “Not the vengeful type. I almost had to break his arm to force him to call the police. My husband calls me Anita the Hun. Says I make Attila look like a marshmallow.”
A marshmallow, Kennicott thought, that’s burned to a crisp. He stood up and tucked the file under his arm.
Starr walked him to the door. She took his hand again. Her grip was strong. “Your brother told me a lot about you.”
“Michael? Why would he talk to you about me?”
“I had a younger sibling too. My sister Arlene.” Starr dropped Kennicott’s hand. “She killed herself the first year we were at graduate school. Michael was great to talk to.”
A part of Kennicott didn’t want to have this conversation. Another part couldn’t pull away.
“Michael thought because your father was such a famous judge, your mother the high-profile journalist, and then he was so successful so young, it would be a tough act to follow. Like I was for Arlene.”
“Thanks, but we should really talk about this some other time.”
Starr didn’t budge. She’d zeroed in on him, and he could see that she had laserlike focus when she needed it. He thought of her clients, sitting in the only chair facing her. Mesmerized.
“Michael said everything came so easily to you. He told me girls had been following you around since about grade six. You hardly worked at school and were always top of your class. But he was frustrated too. Said