Chương 11
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she said.
“You could’ve called.”
“I thought you might not answer.”
“That’s possible.”
She held out the dish.
“I made this yesterday.”
“Thank you.”
Neither of us moved.
Finally I took it.
The ceramic was warm on the bottom.
“Can I come in?”
Lucas said from behind me, “Why?”
Marjorie’s face tightened.
“I need to tell Claire something.”
“You’ve had all day.”
“Lucas.”
He crossed his arms.
I looked at Marjorie.
“Does it involve Evelyn?”
“Yes.”
“Then come in.”
Lucas walked into the living room without waiting.
Marjorie followed.
Beth took the casserole from me and whispered, “I’m not eating anything from a murder-adjacent kitchen.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“That was inappropriate.”
“Yes.”
She put the dish in the refrigerator.
Marjorie sat on the edge of the sofa.
Her handbag stayed on her lap.
Lucas remained standing near the fireplace.
I sat across from her.
“What is it?”
She rubbed her thumb over the bag clasp.
“Evelyn called me after the funeral.”
Lucas laughed without humor.
“Of course she did.”
“What did she want?”
I asked.
“She wanted to know what I told the police.”
“Did you tell her?”
“No.”
Lucas looked surprised.
Marjorie noticed.
“You don’t have to look so shocked.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I almost smiled.
Apparently Lucas and I had both inherited that argument from somewhere.
Marjorie continued.
“She said the police were going to make innocent things look sinister.”
“What innocent things?”
“She didn’t say.”
“What else?”
“She asked whether I remembered Tuesday correctly.”
My stomach tightened.
“How did she phrase it?”
“She said grief can change memory.”
Reyes had said something similar.
From Reyes it had sounded careful.
From Evelyn, it sounded like preparation.
“Did she threaten you?”
“No.”
Marjorie hesitated.
“Not exactly.”
“What does not exactly mean?”
“She reminded me that my husband borrowed money from her.”
Lucas muttered, “There it is.”
Marjorie looked at him.
“Your grandmother helped us when Ron’s business failed.”
“And now she owns your memory.”
“Lucas.”
He looked at me.
“What?”
“You can be angry without being cruel.”
He stared at Marjorie.
Then at the floor.
“Sorry.”
Marjorie nodded.
“She said Ron still owed her thirty-eight thousand dollars.”
“Does he?”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“So she said if I was going to involve myself in lies about her family, she might have to reconsider how patient she’d been.”
Beth came into the room carrying four mugs.
“That sounds like a threat.”
Marjorie accepted one.
“It felt like one.”
“Did you record the call?”
Lucas asked.
“No.”
“Of course not.”
“Lucas.”
“Sorry.”
This time he sounded less sorry.
Marjorie wrapped both hands around the mug.
“There’s more.”
I waited.
“Evelyn asked whether I had told police about Mark.”
My heartbeat changed.
“What about Mark?”
“I said I didn’t know what she meant.”
“What did she say?”
“She said Mark had been unstable before he died.”
Lucas stepped forward.
“That’s bullshit.”
Marjorie looked at him.
“I didn’t say I believed her.”
“What exactly did she call unstable?”
“She said he’d been paranoid about money.”
I thought of the changed locks.
The changed garage code.
The warning on Grant’s business card.
“Anything else?”
Marjorie swallowed.
“She said he had accused her of stealing from the trust.”
Nobody spoke.
The refrigerator motor kicked on in the kitchen.
“What trust?”
I asked.
“She didn’t say.”
“Did Mark ever tell you that?”
“No.”
“Did Evelyn?”
“Not before tonight.”
Lucas looked at me.
“Grandpa’s trust.”
Probably.
But another possibility had begun forming.
“Did she say stealing?”
“Yes.”
“Not mismanaging?”
“No.”
“Not borrowing?”
“No.”
“Stealing.”
“Yes.”
Beth put her mug down.
“That seems important.”
Marjorie nodded miserably.
“I thought so too.”
“Did you tell Reyes?”
“Not yet.”
“Why come here first?”
Her eyes filled.
“Because I’m ashamed.”
I said nothing.
She looked down into her coffee.
“I spent years believing Evelyn was difficult but fundamentally decent.”
Lucas made a sound.
Marjorie ignored him.
“She could be awful, but she was generous.”
“Those aren’t opposites,” I said.
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“I know that now.”
The phrase irritated me.
Now.
After Mark.
After Lily.
After years of Evelyn making people pay emotionally for every favor.
I wanted to punish Marjorie with that.
Instead I asked, “Why are you ashamed?”
“Because Tuesday wasn’t the first time she asked me something about Lily’s health.”
My hands went cold.
“When was the first time?”
“About a month ago.”
Lucas moved closer.
“What did she ask?”
Marjorie looked at me, not him.
“She asked how dangerous asthma could be in children.”
I set my mug down before I dropped it.
“What did you say?”
“That it depends.”
“Why would you know?”
“Ron had severe asthma.”
“Right.”
She nodded.
“She asked whether someone could die quickly from an attack.”
Beth whispered, “Oh my God.”
“What else?”
I asked.
Marjorie’s mouth trembled.
“She asked whether a delayed ambulance could make a difference.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Lucas sat down abruptly on the arm of the chair.
“Did she say why?”
“She claimed someone at church had a grandchild with asthma.”
“Did you believe her?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course she had.
Evelyn always wrapped lies around a piece of ordinary concern.
“She asked anything about insurance?”
“No.”
“Medication?”
Marjorie hesitated.
“Yes.”
My eyes opened.
“What?”
“She asked whether rescue inhalers always work.”
I could hear my pulse.
“What did you tell her?”
“That sometimes people need emergency treatment even after using one.”
“Anything else?”
“She asked if using an expired inhaler could fail.”
Lucas stood.
“Expired?”
Marjorie looked at him.
“Yes.”
I was already moving toward the kitchen.
Lily’s prescription records were in the family medical portal.
My password failed twice because my hands would not type properly.
On the third attempt, I got in.
The most recent albuterol inhaler had been filled seven weeks earlier.
Not expired.
I opened the medication history.
May you like
There had been an older prescription from the previous year.
That inhaler would have expired three months ago.
