Grave Secret (15 page)

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was ready for it to be someone else, but I guess I’ve always got a little bit of hope.” That was exactly how I felt.

“It wasn’t, and I’m only wondering why someone thought it was her. I mean, who called the police? Who got Pete to look at the tapes? And this woman was close enough in appearance to Cameron to at least make Pete feel I should see the video. Was the anonymous caller someone who went to high school with Cameron and me, someone who was genuinely mistaken? Or was he some creep who just wanted to jerk us around?”

“And why now?” Tolliver said. He looked at me. I didn’t have an answer.

“I hardly see how this could have anything to do with Rich Joyce and his caregiver,” I said. “But the timing is really suspicious, huh?”

We couldn’t think of anything else to say about this strange grouping of events. After a while, I found Tolliver’s comb in a pocket of his jeans, which were hanging in the closet. They were a little stained. His shirt had been cut off of him. I reminded myself to bring another one to the hospital for the day he was released.

When I began to comb his hair, I found it was dirty, of course, and I tried to think of a way to wash it. With some improvisation, including a clean bedpan, an extra pad that they’d brought in case his shoulder leaked, and the little bottle of shampoo included in his admissions package, I managed. I also helped him shave and brush his teeth, and then I gave him a sponge bath, which turned unexpectedly bawdy.

He was very relaxed and sleepy—and happy—by the time that was over, and he said he felt much better. I combed his damp, dark hair and kissed his smooth cheek. He was going through a clean-shaven phase.

A nurse came in to give him his bath right after I finished, and she shrugged when I told her it was done.

Time in a hospital inevitably drags. Before I had a chance to tell Tolliver about Victoria’s phone call, he fell asleep. I hated to wake him when the long day stretched in front of us. I napped myself. I struggled awake when Tolliver’s lunch tray came at eleven thirty.

That was another exciting break. I cut up all his food—well, the little that required cutting—and put a straw in his drink for him so that he could eat one-handed. He was so happy to be getting real food instead of liquid that even hospital food was welcome, and he managed pretty well. When I was sure he’d had as much as he wanted, I rolled the table away and handed him the TV remote. I needed to go in search of food myself.

“You don’t have to sit here all afternoon, you know,” Tolliver said.

“After I eat, I’ll spend the afternoon with you,” I said in a tone that told him not to argue. “Then I’m meeting Victoria for supper. I probably won’t come back after that.”

“Good. You don’t need to be cooped up all day. You’ll probably want to have a run or try the hotel’s weight room or something.”

He was right about that. I’m used to sitting still for long periods, because we’re in the car so much, but I’m also used to getting exercise every day, and my muscles were stiff.

I got a salad at a fast-food place, enjoying the bustle and purpose of the people in the restaurant. It felt odd to be alone, though I didn’t mind so much after I watched (and listened to) a mother dealing with three preschool-age children at the next table. I wondered if Tolliver wanted to have children. I didn’t. I’d already had the care of two babies, my little sisters, and I didn’t want to go through that again. And I admitted to myself that while I didn’t want to be pushed out of my sisters’ lives, I didn’t want to be in charge of those lives, either.

Even after I saw the youngest boy give his mother a spontaneous hug and kiss, I didn’t warm up to the concept of carrying someone else inside my body. Should I feel guilty about that? Didn’t every woman want to have her own child to love?

Not necessarily,
I thought.
And God knows there are plenty of children in the world. I don’t need to supply another one.

Tolliver was awake and watching a basketball game when I walked into his room. “Mark called while you were gone,” he said.

“Oh, gosh, could you reach the phone?”

“It was my big adventure for the day.”

“What did he have to say?”

“Oh, that I’d made my dad feel bad, that he thought I was being an idiot for not welcoming Dad back to the land of the sober, with my arms open wide.”

I debated with myself for a minute before deciding to say what I thought. “Mark has a real weakness for your dad, Tolliver. You know I love Mark, and I think he’s a great guy, but he won’t ever really get it, about Matthew.”

“Yeah,” Tolliver said. “You’re right. He was nuts about Mom, and when she died, he kind of transferred that emotion to our dad.”

Tolliver didn’t talk about his mother a lot. Her death, from cancer, had to have been completely awful.

“I think Mark believes that Dad has to be good at heart,” Tolliver said slowly. “Because if Dad isn’t good, then he’s lost his last parent. And he has to have that relationship.”

“Do you think your dad is good at heart?”

Tolliver really thought about his answer. “I hope he’s got some good left in him,” Tolliver said. “But honestly, I don’t think he’ll stay sober, if he’s really sober now. He’s lied about it before, over and over. He always goes back to the drugs, and you remember that at his worst he’d take whatever anyone offered him. Now, I’m sure he must have been in a lot of emotional pain to need so many drugs to kill it, you know? But he abandoned us to whoever wanted to prey on us, because he had to drug himself. No, I can’t trust him,” Tolliver said. “And I hope I never do, because I’ll be disappointed all over again.”

“That was exactly the way I felt about my mother,” I said, understanding completely.

“Yeah, Laurel was a piece of work,” Tolliver said. “You know she tried to hit on Mark and me?”

I thought I might throw up the food I’d just eaten. “No,” I said, my voice strangled.

“Yeah. Cameron knew about it. She came in on the, ah, critical moment. I thought Mark was going to die of embarrassment, and I had no idea what to do.”

“So what happened?” I felt a deep and burning shame. I told myself it was none of my concern, but it’s hard to believe that when you hear a story about your own flesh and blood that makes you sick to your stomach.

“Well, Cameron dragged her mom into the bedroom and made her put some clothes on,” Tolliver said. “I don’t think Laurel knew where she was or who she was coming on to, Harper, if it makes a difference. Cameron slapped your mom a few times.”

“Jeez,” I said. Sometimes there are no words.

“We’re out of it,” Tolliver said, as if he was trying to convince himself.

“Yes,” I said, “we are. And we have each other.”

“It can’t touch us anymore.”

“No,” I said, lying through my teeth. “It can’t.”

THE
restaurant where I met Victoria Flores was crowded, and servers were bustling back and forth. It seemed incredibly lively after the muted sounds of the hospital.

To my surprise, Victoria wasn’t by herself. Drexell Joyce, Lizzie and Kate’s brother, was sitting at the table with her.

“Hey, girl,” Victoria said, rising to give me a hug. I was surprised, but not enough to pull back. I hadn’t known we were on those terms. Somehow, this show was being put on for Drexell Joyce. I’d been picturing a relaxed dinner between two women who found out secrets for a living, not a strategy session with an unknown man.

“Mr. Joyce,” I said as I sat down and stowed my purse under the table.

“Oh, please, call me Drex,” he said with a broad grin. He poured a lot of admiration into his look. I didn’t believe in his sincerity for a second.

“What are you doing away from the ranch?” I asked, with what I hoped was a disarming smile.

“My sisters asked me to come check with Victoria, here, see what she’s found out and how the investigation’s going. If we have a little aunt or uncle out there, we want to find that baby and make sure he’s brought up right,” Drex said.

“You’re simply assuming that Mariah Parish’s child was your grandfather’s?” I found that astonishing, and I didn’t try to hide it.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. He was an old dog, no doubt about it, but he had a few tricks. My granddad liked the ladies, always did.”

“And you think Mariah Parish would have been agreeable to his advances?”

“Well, he had a lot of charisma, and she might have thought her job depended on saying yes. Granddad didn’t like to hear ‘no.’ ”

Charming. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I didn’t speak.

“So, how’s your brother?” Victoria asked, her voice warm and concerned.

I was disappointed. I was sure now that Victoria had asked me here for some secret purpose of her own. She hadn’t simply wanted my company, after all. “He’s doing much better, thanks,” I said. “I hope he’ll be out of the hospital in another day.”

“Where will you go next?”

“Tolliver usually handles our bookings, and I’ll have to go over our schedule with him when he feels up to it. We had originally planned on staying here at least a week, so we could see our family.”

“Oh, you got folks in this area?” Drex leaned forward, all interest.

“Yes, our two little sisters live here.”

“Who’s bringing ’em up?”

“My aunt and her husband.”

“They live right around here?”

It could be true that Drex was simply fascinated by all things Harper, but I didn’t credit his interest as personal. “Does your family spend a lot of time in Dallas?” I asked. “I saw your sisters the other day, and now you’re here. That’s lots of driving.”

“We have an apartment here, and one down in Houston,” Dex said. “We’re on the ranch around ten months out of the year, but we all need to see the bright lights from time to time. ’Cept Chip. He loves running that ranch. But Kate and Lizzie sit on about ten boards apiece, from banks to charities, and those meet in Dallas.”

“Not you?” Victoria asked. “You don’t do charity work?”

Drex laughed, his head thrown back. I suspected that was so we could see his handsome jawline from another angle. I wondered what he would do when he got older and that jawline wasn’t quite as firm. I know from my own experience that no one looks pretty in the grave.

“Victoria, I guess most boards are smarter than to ask me to be on ’em,” he said. He had a down-home twinkle in his eye. Just one of the good ol’ boy millionaires. “I’m not too good at sitting still, and I’d go to sleep if I had to listen to all them speeches.”

How could Victoria listen to all this bullshit? She gave every appearance of being genuinely charmed by this asshole.

“But Victoria, to get back to the topic, how’s the search going?” Drex asked, with the air of a man who had to abandon his bit of fun to return to grim business.

“Pretty well, I think,” Victoria said, and I went on the alert. Victoria sounded calm and competent, and more than a little cagey. “I’m working on a complete biography of Mariah, and it’s not as easy as I thought it would be. What kind of background check did you run on her before she was hired to help your grandfather?”

“I don’t guess Lizzie had that done,” Drex said, sounding genuinely startled. “I think it was my granddad who did the hiring. Mariah was living in the house by the time we found out about it.”

“But you’d considered hiring a housekeeper for him?” Victoria asked.

“He needed something more than a housekeeper, but less than a registered nurse,” Drex said. “He needed an assistant. Really, she was like a nanny. Made sure he ate the right food, tried to monitor how much he drank. But he would’ve smacked us silly if we’d called her that. She took his blood pressure every day, too.”

Victoria pounced on that. “Mariah had a nursing degree?”

“No, no. I don’t think she had a degree at all. She was supposed to make sure he took his medicine, remind him about his appointments, drive him if he didn’t feel well, call the doctor if she noticed anything off a list of warning signals they gave her. She was kind of our human Life Alert, at least that was the idea.”

I exchanged a quick glance with Victoria. So I hadn’t been the only one to detect a note of resentment in Drex’s monologue. By now I wasn’t convinced that Victoria was as interested in Drex as she’d appeared at first. Victoria was playing a deeper game than I could plot and execute.

“She saw her role a little differently?” I asked.

“Hell, yes. She saw herself as a watchdog, I guess,” Drex said. He took a big swallow of his beer. He looked around to see if our server was within hailing distance. We’d placed our orders a few minutes before.

“Why did your family pay for her funeral and put her in the family plot?” I asked. It was a subject I’d wondered about a couple of times. “Where were her people?”

“We looked through all her stuff after she died, and we couldn’t find anything with any names and addresses on it,” Drex said. “Lizzie asked all of us what she’d said about her family, where she came from, and no one could come up with anything. We asked Chip, and none of his kinfolks could remember anything.”