Daisy’s breaths were coming in painful gasps. Her chest felt tight, her guts clenched, and she had to race to the bathroom, barely making it in time. The instant she made contact with the toilet seat it felt like everything inside of her came flooding out in a horrible, scalding gush. She moaned, leaning forward with her elbows on her thighs, burying her hot face in her hands.
What was she going to do? And what about her brother? Had he actually watched Hal rape a young woman, then let Daisy marry him, without even a word of warning? If Danny knew what Hal was, surely that was the reason Daisy and Hal and Danny and Jesse hardly ever spent time together as a foursome, the reason she almost always saw them by herself. Daisy’s mind lurched back to the days before her wedding, when both of her brothers had come home; David with his wife and children, Danny, by himself, from New York City. Danny had been distant the week of the festivities, so quiet that she’d asked Hal if something had happened at the bachelor party. Once she and Hal had said their vows, her brother had given her a quick kiss, said, “Good luck, Di,” and left the party early.
Daisy moaned again. Her mouth was very dry, and her stomach was still twisting. She was remembering that morning in the fall; Hal in his running clothes, his spinach drink untouched, staring at his iPad, telling her that Bubs had committed suicide. Had he been involved? Had Diana tracked him down, the same way she’d done with Hal and Danny? Had Brad Burlingham’s death actually been a suicide, or had it maybe been a murder? She had never asked Hal any more questions. She’d never followed up. The incident had flown right out of her mind, in the whirl of handling Beatrice’s return, managing her business, running the house. My little scatterbrain, Hal would say, smiling affectionately when Daisy misplaced her car keys or her phone. He’d rest his hand on her hair. You’d lose your head if it weren’t attached, wouldn’t you?
Daisy’s laptop sat beside the bed. She pulled it out and plugged Brad Burlingham’s name into Google, which obligingly spat out a pageful of headlines. The first was an obituary from the Baltimore Sun. Bradley Telford Burlingham, 51, died at his home Saturday. The second story, from a Baltimore news and gossip blog, was more helpful: Prominent Baltimore Family Mourns Its Son.
On Sunday evening, the body of Brad Burlingham, youngest son of the Baltimore Burlinghams, real-estate magnates and political kingmakers, was found at his apartment, a mile away from his parents’ mansion on Deepdene Drive. Like his brothers, his father, his uncles, his grandfather, and his great-uncles, Burlingham was a graduate of the Emlen Academy in New Hampshire and attended Trinity College. Friends and relatives acknowledged that Burlingham’s life was troubled. He was arrested three times in two different states for driving under the influence, and eventually had his license revoked. He married Marianne Conover in 1996. They had two children and divorced in 2005, and Conover was awarded full custody of the children. A second marriage, to Elspeth Dryer in 2009, lasted only four years. Burlingham held various marketing jobs for institutions including the Baltimore Sun and the University of Maryland Medical Center.
“Brad was the black sheep,” said a longtime observer of Baltimore’s upper crust, a friend of the family who requested anonymity in order to speak freely about the deceased. “Every big, rich family’s got one, and the Burlinghams had Brad. He didn’t have an easy life. I hope wherever he is, he’s found peace.”
Friends describe a man who’d made numerous attempts at getting sober. Prior to his death, Burlingham had been working at Starbucks, a job his AA sponsor recommended, according to Corby Kincaid, a college classmate of Burlingham’s.
“He tried very hard to clean up his act, and be a father to his children,” Kincaid said. “He had demons, though, and I guess in the end they won.”
“Brad was a loyal friend, a devoted son, and a loyal member of the Emlen community,” Dr. G. Baptiste, dean of Emlen, said in an interview. “This is an unfathomable loss for all of us.”
Daisy looked at her phone. It was just past four thirty. Beatrice would be home in fifteen minutes. Hal would be home in an hour. She stood, washed her hands, then picked up her phone and punched in her brother’s name.
“Hello? Di? Is that you?”
“It’s me.” Her voice sounded faint, like it was coming from the bottom of a well. “I need to ask you about something.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“The summer after you graduated from Emlen, you went to the Cape. There was a party there. The last party of the summer. I need you to tell me what happened that night.”