Getting Sassy (39 page)

I didn’t get to Dryden Manor until after seven when Detective Hedges dropped me off.

It had been a long afternoon. He’d offered to take me by my apartment so I could change into some dry clothes, but my key was with all my others in the ignition of the Civic and my extra set at my mom’s. So we went straight to the Fowler Police Station where they found some sweats for me to change into. Then came the questions. And a few answers.

They treated me well, offering me food, soda, coffee, and I felt a little guilty. But my guilt couldn’t even begin to compare to my relief when I learned that the guy Jack shot outside of the bar in Fowler was going to be okay, and that Jack Landis was not. When the car tipped toward the passenger side and sank, he’d been partway out the window and wound up pinned beneath the car. They’d brought Lan-dis’s body up but my Civic was still down there. No hurry.

Most of Hedges’s questions involved Jack and what I knew about him. I did my best to cover for Erika but figured they’d have plenty of questions for her. When asked why I was parked near Phinny’s Tap, I told them the truth. Sort of. Said I was having coffee with my mother and had gone to my car for her blood pressure medication, which was in her overnight bag, now at the bottom of the Crystal River.

Hedges seemed satisfied that they’d found Mary Waltner’s killer. Not only did Mary and Jack have a history together in California, but a receptionist at the hotel where Mary had stayed identified a photo of Jack. He’d been seen with her in the lobby on the day she was killed.

When I asked how they’d found Jack and me, Hedges told me that Mick had seen it go down and had followed us out of town, contacted the police and kept them informed as to our route. “Mainly,” Hedges said, “it was a matter of waiting until you stayed on one road long enough to set up a blockade.”

I was surprised to learn that Mick worked with the cops so well.

At one point Hedges asked me if Jack had mentioned another person who might have been in on the goat heist with him. I could truthfully say “no.”

Mainly, I hoped that after today the lies were over.

When I arrived at Dryden, Hedges pulled up in front of the building and said, “You’ll be able to get home from here?”

“Sure. If not, I can always stay with my mom.” I considered that for a few moments. “No, I’ll find a way home.”

“You got an extra set of keys?”

“In my mom’s room.”

He nodded his approval.

Then I asked, “Do you know if the goat was returned to Bull Severn?”

“Yeah. We got a call around four thirty. Found the goat in a pasture with a bunch of cows.”

“Do you know who called?” I sure hoped he didn’t.

“No. Could’ve been an accomplice. But the goat’s photo had been on the news, so it also might have been someone who saw it there and didn’t feel like leaving his name.”

“That’s good. That he’s back where he belongs,” I said, so relieved my fingers tingled. Then, “Severn never did call the police about the goat, did he?”

“Nope.” He practically spat the word out. “First inkling we had was when shots were fired on Main Street.”

“If he had, what would you have done?” I paused, searching for the words. “I mean, it was a goat.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled a little. “But there was a half million attached to it.” He paused, tapping a finger against the steering wheel. “Hard to believe someone would come up with that kind of money for a goat.”

“Must’ve been special,” I said.

Before I got out of the car, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper—the letter—and the envelope with the inverted Jenny stamp. “We checked out Landis’s motel room.
These were there. The envelope was addressed to your mother. Clearly, Robert Savage wanted her to have them.”

I took them and looked at the odd little stamp.

“What’re you going to do with it?” Hedges asked.

“Sell it,” I said, then glanced up at the door to Dryden. “This is an expensive place.”

He nodded his understanding, but there was something else there, like maybe a question unasked. Fortunately, he left it that way.

I thanked him and got out of the car. On my way up in the elevator, I read my father’s words; I saw his handwriting. The letter was sweet, sad and peppered with the guilt he must have carried with him for years.
If only I’d believed in our love the way I believed in the power of money.
It had the dying person’s determination to atone for his perceived wrongs.
I can’t get back those years, I can’t ever set things right. But this letter is sealed with a kiss that I hope will bring you some comfort.
His love for my mother was in his words. And his sadness over never meeting me, well, that was there too.
I imagine she’s like you, Lizzie, a beautiful, clever and tenacious woman.

If he only knew.

I knocked on my mother’s door, waited a brief moment, then opened it.

“Oh, Robyn.” My mother pushed herself up from her recliner and did a fast shuffle toward me, her hands clasped at her chest.

As I wrapped my arms around her bony shoulders, she shook with dry sobs. I patted her back and rocked her slightly where I stood. That was when I saw Erika Starwise. She’d been sitting in the chair I usually occupy, and now she stood, reached for the television remote and lowered the volume on the TV. All I saw were blurs of color on the screen.

“Don’t you ever do something foolish like that again,” my mother said into my shoulder. “You could’ve been killed.”

“I won’t, Mom.”

“Then what would have happened to me?”

Erika and I exchanged a smile.

“You’re a survivor, Mom.”

Erika picked up her purse. “I’m going to leave now, Lizzie.”

My mother detached herself from me and took Erika’s hand. “You’re a dear, Erika. I don’t know what I’d have done. What with Robyn leaving so suddenly.”

I gazed heavenward.

“I was glad to be here,” Erika said, giving my mother’s hand a squeeze, then began moving toward the door, stopped, and said to me, “Do you need a ride home, Robyn?”

“Um, yes, I do. Yes. I’d appreciate that.”

She gestured toward the door. “I’ll wait outside.”

Once she was gone, my mother said, “That woman is an angel. She sat with me this whole time. I didn’t know what had become of you.” I could hear the tears in her voice again.

“I know, Mom.” I led her to her chair and helped lower her into it.

“The nurse offered me a pill to relax, but I didn’t want to sleep. I needed to know that you were all right.” She’d removed a tissue from her pocket and was kneading it in her hand.

“I am. I’m fine.” I patted her knee. “Are you okay now?” I took a couple of steps back and sat on the edge of the rocker.

“Well, I’m somewhat better.” She sort of trailed off with a sigh.

“We’re going to be okay,” I said.

She blinked once. “Well, of course we are.”

I nodded. “Maybe you’d like that pill now?”

“Why, yes.” She looked up at me. “Perhaps I would.”

I got up. “I’ll talk to the nurse when I leave.”

“Thank you.” Then, “Robyn, do you have my money?”

At first I thought she was talking about the stamp, and was about to tell her that I’d have to find a stamp dealer, but then I realized that, of course, she was talking about the fifty dollars—the “sofa money.”

“I’ll get it to you tomorrow. Okay?”

“Thank you,” she said again. “I just don’t like not having any cash.”

“I understand.”

She leaned back in her chair, sighing, and closed her eyes. After a moment she opened them again and said, “Are you leaving?”

“I’d better,” I said, prepared to present my reasons, but that turned out to be unnecessary.

“Be sure to tell the nurse. About my pill.”

“Yes, Mom. I will.”

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

“You bet.” I reached into my bag and pulled out the letter.

“I’ve got something for you.”

She took it, her slender hand shaking slightly. As her eyes rose to meet mine, I nodded. “It’s Robbie’s letter.”

She tilted her head and blinked her eyes as she ran the pad of her thumb over the ink. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“He really loved you.”

“Yes. Yes, I think he did.”

A moment later she asked, “Did you read the letter?”

“I did.” And then I said, “That’s how I know.”

She looked up at me. “We—you and I—are alike, aren’t we?”

I nodded with a sigh. “I’m afraid so.”

She leaned back into the chair, still smiling.

I got up and gave her a kiss. And then as I turned to leave, she said, “Robyn,” I looked back at her, “remember my pill.”

“I will.”

“She was very worried about you,” Erika said as I closed the door behind me.

“I know. And thank you for taking her home and staying with her.”

“It was no trouble.”

After I alerted the nurse to my mother’s needs, Erika and I walked out to the parking lot and got into her car. I told her where I lived and
along the way I filled her in on what had happened, although she’d seen and heard most of it on television.

“Once your mother learned you were all right, she couldn’t watch enough of it.”

“I’ll bet.”

We rode in silence for several moments. Erika’s demeanor was calm, but her insides must have been churning.

“What will you tell the police?” I asked.

After a moment she said, “I’ll tell them the truth.”

“What is the truth?”

As she turned onto Main Street, she held herself erect, with both hands on the wheel, at the ten and two positions, her knuckles sharp points of white. Now she flexed the fingers of her right hand, then tucked them around the wheel again.

She wet her lips and said, “Your father was one of my clients. Had been for many years. He wasn’t a religious man, but he did believe in the afterlife. More so after he learned of his illness.” She glanced at me. In his letter he had said he was dying, but wasn’t specific. “He had colon cancer, and he knew he didn’t have very much time. He wanted to meet you and to see your mother again before he died. I was helping him to determine a time to go. A time when the stars were right. He was very nervous about it, and he insisted the planets and stars be aligned just so.”

“That’s too bad.” I felt her look at me. “If he hadn’t insisted that he got the universal thumbs-up sign, I might have gotten to meet him.” That made me angry.

“Perhaps,” she said, then added, “I also think he was hoping he’d outlive his wife. He did, but not by much.”

“So what was the plan?” I asked, then added, “And I still can’t figure why you went along with it. What did Jack have on you?”

I heard her sigh. “Our daughter. He had our daughter. She was the
only
good thing to come of the marriage. At first Jack wanted nothing to do with her, and for that I was grateful. But Jack Landis doesn’t
leave until he’s ready. Over the years he would appear now and then. I believe he did it just to prove he could and to remind me that I should never forget about him. As if I could. He’d threaten to go to court for partial custody of Holly. I would do anything to keep that from happening.”

I recalled the photograph in Erika’s office, and for a moment I envied the strength of that mother-to-daughter bond. I’d only experienced the daughter-to-mother end, and I supposed I’d never completely understand what drove my mother to carve out a fake history in order to protect me. And herself.

“Where is your daughter?” I asked.

“She’s at school. In the east.” Apparently Erika didn’t want to elaborate, because the next thing I knew she was telling me what Jack did after learning that my father was one of her clients. “Jack couldn’t see a wealthy man without finding a way to steal money from him. He found out who Robbie’s lawyer was, and he started a relationship with her.” She glanced at me. “He was good at that. After Robbie died, Mary told Jack she had to go to Illinois to finish his bequests. Although she wouldn’t tell him what that was, I knew she was going to see your mother. Jack promised me if I were to help him with this one, final... deception... he would be out of my life forever.”

“And you believed him?”

She glanced at me, then back at the road. “I wanted to. Badly.”

That I could understand.

“You came to Fowler to see if you could find out what Mary was bringing to my mother.”

“Yes.” She shook her head. “I never dreamed Jack would kill over this. Never.”

But once he crossed that line, he never looked back. “And since you didn’t know what Mary was bringing to my mother, you needed to concoct that séance and your ‘seeing’ my father.”

She didn’t answer for several moments, as though testing her words. “The first séance was staged—although the women there
thought it was real—but the second, with you and your mother, that was not. I did see Robbie.”

I looked at her profile as she drove and considered whether I would choose to believe her. My father had. I still felt some anger. At her—if she’d told him to quit waiting for Venus to align with Mars and get his ass to Illinois, I’d have had the chance to meet him. On the other hand, he could have done that himself, and maybe as much as he thought he wanted to see us, it was easier to wait until it was too late. I sighed. “I wish I could have seen him.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. But then she added, “It was not meant to be.”

I snorted in response, and she said, “You don’t have to believe in my abilities, Robyn, but I’m surprised to find your mind so closed.”

While I was mulling that over, she said, “Tell me. Why did you choose the river?”

“Water is softer than wood.”

She glanced at me and nodded. “Of course.”

And then I added, “Besides, you told me I’d grow gills.”

I thought I saw a trace of smile, but it was almost dark so I couldn’t be sure.

She pulled into the parking lot behind my building. The purple of dusk cast the cars in an eerie light.

“Are you going back to California?” I asked.

Turning toward me, she said, “Why do you care?”

“My mother will ask.”

With a sigh, she leaned back in the seat and tilted her head up toward the sky. “I don’t know. I may not have a choice. The authorities may want someone to answer for this mess, and even though Jack died, they may find me worth pursuing.”